The Veela Conspiracy
by Iounn
Summary: Harry's life becomes very confusing after a mysterious figure breaks into his room. And no-one will tell him anything. DMHP, SLASH, VEELA DRACO, AU
1. A Night Visit

**Disclaimer: I do not claim to own or to have created the characters, places and situations depicted in this story and I intend to make no money from it. This disclaimer is relevant to any and all chapters that may be added in the future.**

**A/N: This is yet another in a long line of veela fics. But as I like them so much I thought I would make an attempt. Though this is hardly an original theme, I'm going to try to make some aspects a little original. This is a slash DM/HP story. If anyone does not like this, of course, do not read the story. Any suggestions about the plot are welcome but will not necessarily be followed as I have a fairly clear idea where I'm going with this.**

**The Veela Conspiracy **

**Chapter One: A Night visit**

Footsteps could be heard pelting through the hallways of Hogwarts. Startled students looked up from their _'I'm very grumpy today because someone stole my teddy bear Bubbles so I'm going to give you a horribly difficult test'_ tests, set by Professor Snape, as a small figure rushed past the Potions Room. They heard running, stumbling footsteps; frantic gasping for breath and then it was gone in a flash.

Somewhere in one of the twisty turny secret passages of Hogwarts (which no-one was supposed to know about so everybody did) a small figure ran over the even smaller figure of Professor Filius Flitwick, who was rather embarrassed at being found in a forbidden secret passage. The two figures got up looked at each other, and then hurried off in their separate directions. Professor Flitwick hoped the boy wouldn't tell Dumbledore, or he would be forced to endure one of those lectures about setting a good example for the students (accompanied by lemon drops). _Shudder._

In the library Seamus and Dean were flicking wadded pieces of paper at Crabbe and Goyle, who were sitting at the next table and were quite bewildered at the 'little bits of paper from nowhere'. Neville just rolled his eyes each time he heard surprised grunts, as he read a nice book about moss.

Seamus and Dean were just planning a co-ordinated attack, from both sides, when the tall doors to the library were flung open with the dramatic flair most attributed to a deatheater attack, or Snape in a bad mood. But no! There stood the wretched, panting, distraught and, in Seamus' opinion, quite dashing form of Mr Harry James Potter.

He looked around in a dazed way before catching sight of their little group. He made his way over to the threesome in a rather pathetic manner until he stood in front of them. Dean cleared his throat rather awkwardly. He was afraid to ask the question. 'So…Harry. What's the matter?'

Harry flung himself down next to Seamus with all the pathos of a Greek play and buried his head in his hands. Neville was looking upon him as he would look upon an experiment on the magical Venus Fly-Trap that had gone wrong. 'Harry?' Dean ventured to prod the crouched figure with his pencil.

Eventually the petite boy raised his head. 'It's Ron…and Hermione.' He was staring forwards with a slightly vacant look in his eyes. 'I was trying to find my quidditch gloves. I had looked everywhere; under my bed; under Ron's bed; under Seamus' bed.' At this point he stopped to give Seamus a rather pointed look. Seamus blushed. Harry continued.

'Finally I decided to check the Gryffindor store cupboard. You know…the one off of the common room.' They all nodded. 'Ron and Hermione were in there.' Harry shuddered. 'They were doing…' He paused. '…stuff.' Dean snorted and Seamus gave him a quick glare before gathering the traumatised boy in his larger, relatively manly, arms.

'I had always assumed of course. I mean they're going out. But to actually see it…' Seamus petted the dark hair on the head presented to him and murmured comforting nonsense to him. 'Everything's going to be ok. You'll see. I'll look after you.' Dean looked at them in amusement. Neville returned to _Everything you ever wanted to know about moss (The New Edition!!!)._

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Over sixth months before this Mr Harry James Potter had become even more famous for becoming the defeater of the Dark Lord Voldemort, My Lord to his friends or Mouldy Voldy to anyone who thought he was mentally unbalanced. With an extraordinary piece of luck, involving sticky-back plastic, paper and safety scissors, Voldemort had managed to capture Harry, halfway through sixth year, in a dastardly plot to steal his magic and kill him once and for all.

Once again Harry had found himself in The Department of Mysteries, in front of the veil which had taken his godfather, and which was very likely going to take him too. In a fit of the angst that had plagued him through fifth year Harry had thrown himself at Bellatrix Lestrange shouting, 'You killed Sirius. You bitch!' In doing so he had tripped over in a very un-hero like way, spraining his right little toe and cracking his wand which rolled out in front of Voldemort. Voldemort summoned it to him whilst the Deatheaters sniggered at the sight made by the little boy-who-lived sprawled out on the floor.

'Now Harry Potter, you have plagued me for long enough. Tonight you dieeee!' With an unholy screech that made everyone wince, Voldemort uttered a curse at Harry which was intended to strip him of his magic, using Harry's wand. Unfortunately for the mutated wizard, the crack in Harry's wand (remembering Lockhart and his obliviation spell) caused the curse to rebound. Harry watched in vague surprise as Voldemort had shrivelled into a little pile of desiccated skin and bone. Later it was revealed that Voldemort's attempts at immortality had irrevocably tied his life to his magic and, by taking away his magic, he had taken his own life. Tough Luck as some would say. Others would call it pure stupidity.

Nothing could have exceeded Harry's surprise, however, when Deatheaters all around him started shrivelling up as well. Voldemort, in his extreme selfishness, had tied all their lives to his, so that if he died, they would also. And die they did. Well…at least the ones who weren't clever or sane enough to remove the spell. To Harry's intense disappointment, Bellatrix Lestrange didn't shrivel up. However in a stroke of extraordinary bad luck, which Harry thought was well deserved, she was knocked over by another Deatheater and tripped and fell into the Veil.

Harry was, of course, very pleased by this. But he was still more pleased when Sirius came tumbling out of said Veil. They fell into each others arms in time for them both to watch Wormtail turn into a little pile of dust. Sirius had then picked up a stray wand, bound the remaining Deatheaters, and then he and Harry had danced a little jig over Wormtail's ashes (Until Harry remembered he had a sprained toe).

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No-one, of course, believed that Harry defeating Voldemort was purely an accident. Let alone killing most of the Deatheaters and capturing the rest, and rescuing his godfather from the veil (who was very quickly proved innocent by the identifying spells placed on various piles of dust). All with only a sprained right little toe. And so Harry was widely regarded as one of the greatest wizards who ever lived. Even Dumbledore looked at him with a strange sort of respect. And it was rumoured that trainee Unspeakables were ordered to study him. His friends just looked at him in amusement. Harry's luck was legendary amongst them.

But the _problem_ with all this, the problem which had Harry crying into his hands at night (sometimes), was that no-one was brave enough to ask him out. Everyone who didn't know him already thought he was some wondrous mythical figure (and you don't ask wonderful mythical figures on a date ever, Merlin didn't have a date in all the time he lived). And Harry was far too scared of being rejected to ever ask anyone out; especially after the incident with Cho and all the tears. So Harry was alone. And he had to watch his two best friends engaged in romantic bliss and wonderful fluffy love, which made him feel much worse.

Now that they had gone into seventh year all Harry wanted was someone to love, and someone to love him. He wanted someone to play chess with him, since Ron was now playing games of a far more adult nature; a nice witch, or even muggle (or anyone for that matter), to curl up with in front of the fire in the evening. A girl to talk to and kiss and…stuff. But no such girl was to be found. All this, of course, was responsible for the quivering heap of Harry in Seamus' arms.

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Much, much later that night five boys could be found tucked up in their beds. Harry was curled in a tight ball, a habit picked up from his early years in a cupboard. Ron was spread flat out on his back, snoring loudly. Dean was lying quietly asleep and Seamus was letting out high pitched little squeaks every now and again. Neville, who was the only one awake, assumed he was having a very good dream. Neville's bed was on the far wall, near to the window, and he was clutching at the side of his bed, silently cursing Ron with every snore he made.

Suddenly there came a sound which made Neville sit bolt upright in his bed. A strange squeaky scraping was coming from the window. With everything he had in him, he prayed it wasn't bats. Screechy, horrible, black bats with horrible wings and fangs. Nervously he, ever so slowly, turned his head to face the window. There were no curtains, but at first he couldn't see anything. Then, something caught his eye. In the uppermost left hand corner of the window was someone's head. Someone's blond head. Upside down.

He screamed. Shrilly, loudly, but he couldn't help it. After all no one expects a blond head to be hanging upside down in front of their window, especially not a blond, rich Slytherin head. Seamus woke up immediately with a jittery sort of movement that comes with too much adrenaline. 'What?'

'Who's screaming?' Neville saw that Ron had rolled over on to his side and opened his eyes. Then with a curious sort of splintering sound, cracks began spreading all over the window before it just seemed to fluidly collapse into a pile of glass on the floor. Dean was also awake by this time, and all the boys, save Harry who was blinking his eyelids very rapidly, scrambled out of their beds to see a curious figure enter the room. He entered from high up in a strange swooping motion which made all the boys wonder how he had gone from the ceiling to the floor in such a short period of time. The figure was familiar, and yet, not. Its blond locks were familiar, as was the pale skin and the fine, aristocratic features; but the glow that surrounded the figure differentiated him from every other person the boys had ever seen. He seemed to be breathing deeply, strongly…deliberately.

'M..M..Malfoy!' Seamus stuttered out in disbelief. Draco Malfoy didn't answer, didn't respond. Just stood there breathing deeply. Ron was slowly turning the deep red associated with Weasley anger and, just as Harry was pushing himself up into a sitting position, he strode up to Draco spitting out, 'What the hell Malfoy? If you think you can just…' But he was abruptly cut off just as he raised his fist by Malfoy sending a wave of magic around the room. Immediately Ron could feel himself start to rise in the air and, looking around him and yelping in rather an undignified way, he could see Seamus, Dean and Neville doing the same thing. They didn't stop until they were pinned with their backs against the ceiling looking down at the figures below them.

Harry was just coming to consciousness. As with his luck, the extreme difficulty of waking Harry Potter up was a fact that exasperated his friends, particularly his room-mates. 'Harry! Help us! Or get a Professor or something.' Ron was yelling down with a frustration that could only come from needing the bathroom from several feet in the air. Harry looked around in bewilderment but saw no-one. Then he saw someone. A very magnificent, glowing someone, who was coming towards him with an expression of complete intoxication and determination.

His friends could only watch in horror as Harry was approached by Malfoy, who was clearly under the influence of _something_. 'Harry!' Ron shouted. 'Up here!' Harry shook his head slightly and looked up. But it was only for a second, because it was then that a hand ever so gently cupped his jaw and brought him to face it. The most gorgeous person that Harry had ever seen, who was staring into Harry's eyes. Glowing mercury eyes met viridian in an expression of complete adoration. And Harry could feel that the person would always love him, always want him, and never leave him alone.

All four boys on the ceiling were shouting down in frustration, outrage and, in Ron's case, desperation, but neither Harry nor Draco paid them any attention. Ron could see that Harry's eyes had taken on a sort of glazed quality. 'Malfoy's cast a spell on him.' He hissed to Seamus, who nodded and then went back to watching the figures below. Watching Seamus, Ron decided that he seemed to be _enjoying_ this. Looking back down again he could see that Harry had sort of lain down and Draco was…sniffing him. The crook of his neck, his arms, his legs and…ok Ron did _not_ need to see Draco Malfoy sniffing his friend _there_.

The four boys could hear Malfoy muttering, even crooning, something in a language none of them could understand. And Harry seemed to respond to it, blushing or moving slightly whenever Malfoy said something. Occasionally Harry would reach out to touch Malfoy lightly on the arm or on his brow. And Malfoy would respond feverishly. Gasping and crooning even more frantically. It made Ron feel _sick_. It made Seamus feel _horny_. The four boys were beginning to think it was continue like this for the rest of the night, when they noticed Malfoy seemed to be aiming for a particular part of Harry's body. And it was not the one Seamus would have preferred it to be.

Finally the back of Harry's neck was revealed to Draco. He licked it once and Harry shuddered. So did Ron, but that was for a different reason. Then, swiftly and determinedly Draco bit Harry. Hard. Harry's eyes shot open wide as they filled in white and glowing with magic. And he screamed silently.


	2. Wherein there is much conspiring

**A/N: One reviewer pointed out that it doesn't seem as if Harry has too many problems with being with Draco. However I think that this chapter explains why; and where problems may occur in the future between them. Harry's willingness is purely temporary. If it is not clear, then review and I will reply with further explanation. On the other hand my summary was a little misleading, so I have changed it. Also I won't be able to update for at least a couple of weeks due to exams and essays. On a different note, I want to thank everyone for their reviews. It's incredibly nice of you and I appreciate it.**

**The Veela Conspiracy**

**Chapter Two: Wherein there is much conspiring**

'What the bloody hell is going on?' Sirius bellowed as he almost sprang from the fireplace. Remus followed soon after and gave a faintly apologetic look to Minerva McGonagall who was looking at Sirius with a faintly shocked expression as he continued his tirade.

'If it isn't enough that I have had to endure torment unknown to mortals…' (This wasn't strictly true as the Veil actually functioned by sending passengers to the place they most deserved. Sirius had spent a lovely few months catching up with Prongs and Lily whereas Bellatrix was probably experiencing fire and brimstone.) '…but my special time with Remus is interrupted at the _most_ inconvenient moment.' Remus tugged on Sirius' arm in futile embarrassment. Sirius just turned and patted his head before returning to McGonagall. 'And not only that, but it is _TWO AM. _What incompetent thing could you have _possibly_ done at _TWO AM?_' Sirius paced for a little bit more and then flung his arms up in the air and screamed, '_TWO AM._'

'Well thank you Black,' sneered Snape as he strolled into the Headmaster's office. 'It's so _considerate _of you to remind us all of the time. But I think we may just have picked up the fact that it is two am. Possibly you may need reminding. Your brain does seem to have difficulty grasping the concept of time.'

'Now dear boys...' Dumbledore walked into his study just as Sirius was about to pounce. (Remus didn't know why he hadn't been in his study to begin with). 'I'm sure we can all come to some truce during this most exciting time.' Remus felt nervous; if Dumbledore thought it was an exciting time then it was quite possible that Voldemort had been resurrected, or that socks were taking over the world. While visions of socks danced in Remus' head, Dumbledore had continued. 'Now if we can just wait for our guests, who should be here any minute, then we can begin.' Sirius flopped down into a chair dramatically. (It should be noted that Harry had picked up much of his dramatic flair from his godfather.) Sirius tugged Remus down onto his lap. It seemed as if this was going to take a while. And if it was, he was at least going to be comfortable.

Snape just looked disgustedly at Sirius, looked disgustedly at Dumbledore, glared at McGonagall and felt that the whole situation was repulsive. He settled in a gloomy corner and posed menacingly. That _his_ godson had… It was beyond comprehension. _But_, he pondered to himself looking at Black; _at least there was the chance of some amusement._

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Five restraining charms, four dramatic speeches, three hours, two Malfoys and one fistfight later, the basic facts had been revealed (along with diagrams for Sirius' benefit). Draco Malfoy was a veela; fact one. Draco Malfoy had claimed Harry Potter as his submissive mate as soon as he had sniffed him out, which had been that night; fact two. Harry Potter had to be transformed into a veela for the bonding to take place; fact three. It was at this point that things became a little confused in Sirius Black's mind. He could see absolutely no reason why his precious godson had to be turned into a thingy and didn't see why he couldn't just take Harry away and hide him somewhere. When Remus looked at him blankly, he suggested Italy. 'But why can't I?' He whined.

Remus was just exhausted and exasperated by this time. 'Because it's illegal Padfoot.'

'And how can you turn a perfectly ordinary, adorable little godson into a veela, just like that? It doesn't make sense.' Suddenly Sirius sat upright from where he had been huddled on the floor in despair. 'He's not one of those things already is he?'

Remus looked at Dumbledore in desperation. He wasn't dealing with this too well himself; he couldn't cope with one of Sirius' fits. Dumbledore, seeing his look of pathetic despair, took sympathy on him. 'No, no, no. Harry is quite human at this point. See!' He took his wand and did a complicated gesture towards the wall. On the wall appeared the image of Harry's dorm room. The beds were all empty except for one. There, cradled against the very big, very blonde and very veela Draco Malfoy, was Harry Potter, fast asleep. Draco was nuzzling him and looked very self satisfied. Every now and again he would bend down and lick the nape of Harry's neck.

Sirius got up in outrage. 'You can't permit this. For that…that…that Malfoy, to be molesting my unconscious godson. He probably drugged him. Moony! We must stop this.' Remus walked up to his husband and hugged him saying. 'There, there Padfoot. I'm sure Harry hasn't been drugged. Look…' He gestured towards the screen. 'He's just asleep.'

It was at this point Lucius Malfoy cleared his throat. He had been silent up until this point, leaving it to his wife to explain in intricacies of Draco's inheritance. 'Actually…in the meetings in which a submissive is claimed and transformed into a veela, the dominant emits a pheromone which serves to put the chosen mate into a trance, for a better word.' He looked at the gaping faces of Remus, Sirius and McGonagall. 'It's to ensure compliance.' He shrugged. 'We can't have submissives running off before the dominant even has a chance to transform them.'

'I thought you said he hasn't been transformed yet?' Sirius suspiciously interrogated Dumbledore. Lucius interrupted just as Dumbledore was about to speak. He spoke in a very bored tone. 'There are no born veela submissives, only dominants are born. On the first night in which a dominant identifies his future submissive, he claims them; with a bite.' He said gesturing to the screen.

Sirius squinted and finally made out that Draco Malfoy was licking a bite on the nape of his godson's neck. He growled. Lucius continued. 'His pheromones ensure compliance during this time and the trance that they put the submissive under ensures that the submissive has no memory of these events. This is also true for the seven nights following this, when the dominant will visit his intended and transform them into a veela by the oral transference of blood, tears, and semen, if the submissive is a male.'

'SEMEN!' Sirius bellowed. Lucius carried on as if no interruption had taken place. 'Within the week after this the couple must obtain a parental blessing and blessing from Venus. It is only after this has taken place that the submissive will become a true veela.'

Sirius sank to the floor again. Remus sank with him. 'As we have already discussed it is illegal to try and prevent this transformation from taking place.' Lucius looked sternly at Dumbledore, Snape, Remus and Sirius, as if they would try to separate his son from his chosen mate. 'If an attempt is made and it is successful, the dominant veela will die.' Narcissa Malfoy stepped forwards to join her husband in glaringly at the aforementioned figures.

'Typically, soon after the transformation has taken place, the pair will bond. This consists of full consensual sexual intercourse and the bonding bites, which each will give to the other.' Sirius wondered to himself if Lucius Malfoy was an encyclopaedia, disguised in human form. 'The veela's instincts are too strong to be denied for both the submissive and the dominant.'

'Yes, thank-you Mr Malfoy. Very informative indeed. Don't we all agree?' Dumbledore looked around encouragingly at his companions, as if they were attending a lecture on _The Mating Habits of the Busy, Busy Bee_. They looked at him incredulously. 'Yes…well…now we get onto the tricky part.'

'_Now_ we get onto the tricky part? What are you talking about "now we get onto the tricky part"?' Sirius expostulated sarcastically. 'Where have you been for the last few hours? There's been something very decidedly tricky about this whole damned Merlin's shit of a mess.' McGonagall clicked her tongue disapprovingly, and met Sirius' glare head on when he turned on her.

'Yes…well…there are a few things we have to bear in mind during Harry's transformation.' Sirius glared at the last two words but said nothing. 'It is an extremely dangerous time for the young submissive veela to be.'

'Dangerous!' Sirius was about to begin another rant.

'Dangerous!' exclaimed Dumbledore happily. 'First, we must be careful to make sure young Harry does not find out about the transformation that he is going through. If he does find out, then his magic will start acting subconsciously against the veela magic introduced into his system for the transformation. This would create a magical instability and would lead to illness and possibly even death.' Sirius paled. 'Quite so,' said Dumbledore looking at the depressed godfather.

'Secondly…'

'Oh why does there have to be a "secondly"?'

'Shut up Black.' Snape sniped.

'_Secondly_…' said Dumbledore very deliberately, 'the extreme instability that Harry will be experiencing over the next week means that he will be extremely vulnerable to the influence of the magic of the other pupils and teachers, besides Draco of course.' He added the last, sending a smile at Lord and Lady Malfoy, who didn't return it.

'This means that we will not be able to allow him to interact magically with them in class. Unfortunately it also means that we will have to be very sure that no-one touches him, besides Draco, in the next week.'

'Now how the hell are we supposed to do that? You can't have a perfectly ordinary teenage boy not touching anyone for a week. It's insane.' Sirius expostulated. Remus nodded in agreement.

'Well I'm glad you asked,' said Dumbledore whilst placidly unwrapping a lemon-drop and popping it into his mouth. 'We will just have to have a little assembly rather early this morning. Six am should do it. It will let the little ones have enough sleep, and we can ensure that Harry is not present. We'll explain the situation to them and that they must not touch Mr Potter for the next week or use any magic upon him. Oh, and also that he must not find out why.' He turned to his deputy head. 'Minerva, if you would be so kind to arrange it.' McGonagall sighed resignedly as she got up and headed out to _arrange_ it. 'Oh, Minerva, I nearly forgot.' She stopped and turned around. 'I believe you will find Mr Longbottom, Mr Thomas, Mr Weasley and Mr Finnegan in the third guest suite. You will make sure they attend, won't you?' With that Dumbledore turned back to face his remaining guests. McGonagall grumbled slightly to herself before exiting the room.

'Now, it has long been a tradition of the Veela race to choose protectors for the transitioning submissive, to ensure that all goes well. Sirius, Remus, I am sure that you will wish to take on this role.' He looked expectantly at the two men.

'Of course.' Remus replied. When Sirius said nothing, he turned to see him looking rather morose. He nudged him a little. 'For Harry,' he said under his breath. Sirius huffed and said reluctantly, 'Fine.'

'Good, good! Now…'

'It is my son's wish that Severus also take part in the protection of his future mate.'

Dead silence met Lucius Malfoy's statement. Snape tried to look pleadingly at his friend whilst retaining his intimidating demeanour. It didn't work.

'Snivellus!' said Sirius in disbelief. 'You can't possibly expect _Snivellus_ to take proper care of _my_ godson. This is unbelievable!' He started pacing agitatedly. Remus looked at him in worry. Snape's mouth tightened in anger.

Lucius Malfoy simply raised an eyebrow and drawled, 'I'm afraid you don't have any choice in the matter. The dominant veela may appoint a certain person to watch his future mate. And I'm _sure_ Severus wouldn't wish to upset his godson at a time like this.' He idly played with his snake headed cane as he said this. Snape picked up on the implied threat and decided it wasn't worth the effort to try and argue the point. He sulkily gave his assent. Sirius growled.

'It might also be a good idea,' said Dumbledore, switching the lemon drop from one side of his mouth to the other, 'to involve one of his friends in protecting Harry.'

'What about Hermione? I'm sure she's more than capable of fighting off any danger,' suggested Remus. 'She always excelled in Defence against the Dark Arts.'

'She always excelled in everything,' pointed out Sirius.

'Yes…well…I'm afraid Miss Granger might be a little…unsuitable for the role of protector.' Dumbledore blushed. Snape, Sirius and Remus looked at him in fascination. Dumbledore had not been known to blush since the _Great Incident of '77_ in which the Marauders had caused his robes to fly up at any female who passed within ten metres of him. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy simply looked bored. 'You see the protectors must be present during the transformation process.' He looked at them significantly. Sirius and Remus looked back in incomprehension. Until….

'Arghhhhh! Remus! We have to watch that…' Sirius looked at the Malfoy's dirtily. '…that veela molest Harry.' He shuddered. 'There's going to be Malfoy semen.' He shook his hands as if trying to shake it off him.

'Actually your godson is going to be drinking the Malfoy semen,' added Snape maliciously.

'Snivellus! I'm going to curse you to…'

'Well at least Harry is going to be in a trance. _Your _godson is probably dying to drink Harry's semen.' Remus rebutted pulling Sirius back from potential homicide.

'Harry's semen! Remus, why? Why did you have to say those two words together?' Sirius paled. 'I'm going to watch Harry orgasm.' He paused. 'That's just…wrong.'

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'Just look at this way Padfoot,' said Remus soothingly whilst stroking his poor befuddled head. 'Harry's always wanted someone to love. And you've noticed as much as I have that Harry's letters have been mentioning more and more how lonely he's been feeling. You want Harry to be happy don't you?'

'Yes…but…'

'And you want Harry to experience the same happiness we feel, don't you?' interrupted Remus before his husband could continue.

Sirius sighed, 'Yes.'

'Then don't try to come in between him and his chance for happiness,' said Remus firmly.

'But it's a Malfoy. Harry doesn't even like him. Just last week he wrote to us saying what an underhanded, dishonourable git he was. Don't you remember?' Sirius said all this looking hopefully up at his beloved. Remus just gave him a look. A very specific look. A look that promised quick punishment if Sirius didn't stop being stubborn. For a brief moment Sirius was tempted. Then Remus spoke again.

'You heard as well as I did, that once Harry becomes a submissive veela his instincts will take over. We will just have to…conspire against him a little until then. And besides, everyone wants a veela's love. They love unconditionally and for the whole of their lives.'

'Everyone should want a werewolf's love,' said Sirius licking his lips. 'They love unrestrainedly and for the whole of the night.' He attempted to grab his husband, who slipped out of his grasp just in time.

'Later. First promise me that you will help to get Harry together with Draco.' Sirius stared at him. Remus stared back.

'Fine! I will help to get Harry together with Draco.'

'And you will not attempt to endanger their courtship in any way.'

'And I will not attempt to endanger their courtship in any way.' Sirius looked at Remus with extreme frustration. 'Happy?'

Remus slinked towards Sirius and wrapped himself around the taller man before saying. 'Now I am.'

'You're so cheesy.'

'Shut up Sirius.'


	3. In the morning

**A/N: I'm so glad that everyone seems to be enjoying this so far. One person asked for this to be mpreg, but I have to say I'm undecided about it, so just wait and see. I'm not sure how well I could write it and I have never seen it written **_**really**_** well. Anyway hope everyone had a good Christmas, well, if you celebrate it.**

**The Veela Conspiracy**

**Chapter Three: In the morning**

Harry woke up at his customary time of 7.07am with all the cheerfulness that is so annoying to most people in the early morning. He bounced out of bed, and walked with a spring in his step as he went to get dressed. His uniform adorned, he brushed his pretty black locks and brushed his pretty white teeth; all the while entirely failing to notice the absence of his roommates. He had the vague impression of having had good dreams the night before but couldn't remember exactly what they were. It was probably that one with him twisting off Snape's teddy-bear's head.

He hummed to himself slightly as he made his way out of the Gryffindor common room and down to the dining hall. He was a little surprised to find no-one else walking in the corridors but brushed it aside. It was a beautiful morning. The sky was blue, the birds were singing, and he had every chance of a perfectly normal day now that Voldemort was out of the picture. He wasn't going to let such a little thing ruin his good mood; especially as he had been a little down lately.

A slight sad expression crossed his face for a second before he determinedly took it off. For too long had he been crying alone in his bed at night; he was _not_ going to be unhappy anymore. Pushing all his shyness aside, Harry decided that he was going to look for a girlfriend. A nice Gryffindor girlfriend who he could bring flowers to and defend from monsters and the unwanted advances of Slytherin creeps. He nodded emphatically to himself at that thought. Of course he was only five foot six inches. But he had defeated Voldemort. He was tough. Maybe Parvati….

Reaching the Great Hall he was surprised to see the doors closed, as they were usually kept open at mealtimes to let people in to eat. He pushed but it didn't open so he leaned his weight on one door and pushed as hard as he could. With a loud bang it suddenly shot open and Harry fell forwards onto the dining room floor, his glasses falling off in the process. Instantly he could hear a great commotion as people started whispering, talking and giggling.

As he reached for his glasses and pushed them back on his face he could see that some people had got up to get a better look. To his surprise he saw Malfoy had as well, and his friends were frantically trying to pull him down, to no avail. He scowled. _That rotten Malfoy always gloating and looming over him just because he was taller and richer and always smirking._ Glaring at Malfoy he shook the dust off his clothes and watched in satisfaction as Malfoy slowly sank to his chair.

He was aware of eyes following him as he trudged to his place between Ron and Hermione. To his surprise there was a large space between the two, enough for three people at least. They must have had a fight. He groaned to himself as he prepared to deal with relationship trauma and emotional talks. He sat close to Ron, intending to confront him first. But to his chagrin, Ron instantly cringed away from him.

'Ron?' said Harry cautiously. 'What are you doing?' He reached forwards to poke Ron on the forehead but was suddenly distracted by a loud growl from across the room. He looked around but didn't see anything animalistic so returned to Ron again and reached forwards to shake him. But before he could do so Ron gave a little yelp and did a sort of backwards somersault off the bench onto the floor.

'What the hell! Ron?' Harry asked in bemusement. He went to get up to help his friend but was all of a sudden stopped by a hand grabbing his, admittedly delicate, arm. As he turned to face Hermione he heard gasps which were quickly choked off to form completely unrealistic coughing fits. He looked down to see…a gloved hand.

'Hermione?' He whined desperately. 'What's going on?'

'Now don't mind Ron,' she said firmly, 'he's just a little allergic to dust.' Harry turned back to Ron who had got up by this stage.

'What's aller…' Ron broke off as Seamus elbowed him roughly in the gut. 'Yeah,' he said, 'allergic,' and shot Seamus death glares as he sat down again, at a careful distance from Hermione and Harry. Harry shrugged a little. He thought that wizards couldn't get allergic to things. He'd read it in a text book somewhere. But if Hermione said it…

'Ok…' He said slowly. 'Then why are you wearing gloves?'

'To prevent them from ageing.' She said promptly.

'Hermione!'

'Harry.'

'You're seventeen!'

'Well you can never begin too early.'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Girls!' He said with disgust.

'Ah Harry. We can do without them, can't we?' Seamus gave Harry a little wink which made Harry's pulse beat rather oddly. He was about to nod and agree when he suddenly remembered his plan.

'Well we can hardly do without them.' He looked around for Parvati and saw her sitting four or five seats down from him on the other side of the table. 'Parvati.' He called out, praying his voice didn't tremble. 'Could you pass the…' He scrambled for an item that was near her, '…toast.'

'Don't worry about it Harry,' said Hermione, 'here's some toast.' She was insistently pushing the plate under his nose. He shuddered. He hated toast.

'I was asking Parvati.' He hissed under his breath to her, before sending Parvati what he hoped was a charming smile. She gave a sort of uncertain smile back and then looked at her friends as if for help.

'Don't be silly Harry,' she said pushing a couple of slices onto his plate and then pouring on a dollop of honey for good measure before saying perkily, 'eat up.' Harry looked morosely at his plate and then at Parvati who was talking frantically with her friends about something. The moment had passed. He glumly took a bite of his toast.

However by the time he had finished his toast, he had strengthened his resolve. Was he a man to put up with his friends forcing toast on him? He was not. Was he a man to give up on a girl because of one little setback? He was not. He cleared his throat.

'Parvati.' He said loudly. He noticed nervously that everyone's heads shot up. Gathering his courage he spoke again, 'Would you like to go to Hogsmeade this weekend.? On a date?'

There came a roar, and then a strange sort of grunt. Harry looked around to see Malfoy lying in the floor and Pansy Parkinson pocketing her wand whilst trying to give an innocent smile to everyone. He shook his head. Slytherins trying to appear innocent. Who were they trying to convince? And Pansy Parkinson was practically the school bicycle. He suddenly realised Parvati hadn't given him an answer.

She looked vaguely shocked and Harry was beginning to realise maybe it hadn't been the best idea to ask her out in front of the entire school, where any rejection would instantly become prime gossip fodder. 'Uh…well…' Parvati stuttered. 'I would really like to go out with you Harry but…' She looked at the people either side of her who were regarding her with pity and then said all in a rush, '…I'm already going with someone.'

'Who?' said Harry rather indignantly.

'Uhmmm…'

'Me!' The voice came from opposite Parvati, and she looked at the speaker almost gratefully.

'Neville!' Harry exclaimed feeling slightly shocked, and also annoyed. 'You could have said something.'

Neville shrugged. 'Don't see why I should run all my dates by you.'

_Dates?_ Seamus mouthed to Dean, rather bemused. Dean shook his head in incomprehension.

'Besides…' Neville continued in a kind of aggravated way. 'Why did you sound so shocked?'

'Uh…no reason,' stuttered Harry. 'I just wanted to go with Parvati to Hogsmeade, that's all.' He settled into a subdued silence, afraid that he had somehow offended Neville, whilst Neville sat back in satisfaction and gave Harry a stare to add to the effect. Harry whimpered.

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As Harry walked down the corridors following breakfast he was uncomfortably aware of eyes following him. Fine, he had got used to the increased attention after Voldemort's defeat, but even then at least the Slytherins had mostly ignored him. Now the Slytherins had joined the rest of the school and it had got ten times worse. Even his friends were acting strangely and there was a group of female Hufflepuff who hadn't even stopped staring to blink since he had fallen into the Great Hall, and had followed him as he left breakfast. He gave them a nervous smile and they giggled in the way that Hufflepuffs had perfected. But there was still no blinking.

He was heading for the Headmaster's office having been sent a message at the end of breakfast saying that he was urgently required for some important business. But coming from Dumbledore that could mean anything from _A Wizarding World War has broken out_ to _Would you like a piece of gingerbread I made earlier?_

As a matter of fact he would have liked some gingerbread but as he looked round the Headmaster's office he saw none. A Wizarding World War it was then. He grumbled a little to himself but wasn't actually that bothered. A Wizarding World War was exactly the sort of thing that this school needed to forget his humiliating rejection at breakfast.

'Padfoot!' The WWW was forgotten as Harry jumped up in ecstasy to greet his wayward godfather. He thought it was rather strange that Padfoot was wearing so many clothes inside, even a scarf, but pushed the though aside to hug even harder. Sirius choked slightly. Clinging onto Sirius with all the tenacity of a limpet, it could not be said that the past few years of frequent attempted murder had not had some serious effects on Harry's emotional stability.

'Yes Harry. We saw each other a couple of weeks ago. Remember?' Remus spoke tensely as he walked in with the headmaster flinching at the very near, dangerously close skin contact between dog man and veela boy. 'We had tea? You sat on Padfoot's lap which I might point out is my place?' Harry deigned to lift his head off his godfather's shoulder in response but otherwise made no effort to move. Remus moved onto his secret weapon. 'Would you like to let go of Padfoot, he's turning a bit purple and it's clashing with his robes.'

'What!' Sirius yelled before noting Harry's flinch and hurriedly rubbing his godson's back to ensure he didn't burst into tears. It was _so _awkward when he did that. With his other hand he firmly detached Harry's arms from his neck by the boy's sleeves and placed them on his shoulders. Checking his reflection in some strange crystal mirror thing on one of Dumbledore's shelves he saw the purple rapidly fading and grinned in relief. Remus regarded his husband in disbelieving fascination. It was true. Sirius vanity exceeded even his protective instinct over Harry, which was in and of itself fiendishly disturbing.

'Sirius and Remus will be here for a few weeks,' Dumbledore said complacently, 'they thought it might be nice to see you for a bit…and Hagrid could use some help with a nice new shipment of Blast-Ended Skrewts.' Remus' face twisted in horror at the thought of the disgusting creatures but he quickly plastered a smile on his lips when Harry turned to look at him questioningly and nodded jerkily. This was the first _he_ had heard of Blast-Ended Skrewts. _Nice_ indeed! Added to that, his face was beginning to ache from all the facial expressions it had gone through in such a short period of time.

'Harry,' said Remus determined to remove the boy from the dangerously close skin contact. 'Why don't you take us to see Hermione and Ron before Sirius,' he looked meaningfully at said animagus, 'manages to _hurt_ you accidentally.' He looked expectantly at the pair who stared blankly back.

'But Padfoot would never hurt me Moony,' said Harry in that innocent tone of voice that sometimes made it impossible to believe that he was not seven years old. Remus rolled his eyes at the complete absence of intelligence he was facing.

'I know that Harry,' he said slowly, 'But yesterday Padfoot managed to _touch_ some bad things in his animagus form which could be _dangerous_ to his godson…if he _touches his skin_.' Remus waggled his eyebrows meaningfully at Sirius who stared blankly for a few more moments before yelling loudly and unceremoniously dropping Harry. The boy yelped as he hit the wooden floorboards that Dumbledore thought looked atmospheric and looked confusedly up at the canine duo.

He got up slowly rubbing his backside and said cautiously, 'Padfoot's not going to be infectious for long is he?'

Remus smiled with mystery, 'Don't worry Harry. It'll all be over in about a week.' Harry looked at him suspiciously. 'So where are Hermione and Ron?'

Harry looked at him out of the corner of his eye before saying slowly, 'Hermione'll be in Arithmancy, and Ron is where I'm supposed to be, in COMC.'

'Actually I've given them some time off for good behaviour,' mumbled Dumbledore through a lemon drop. 'You should find them in the Gryffindor common room.'

Harry thought this was slightly strange but shrugged it off as he led Padfoot and Moony out of the office. Today was turning out to be a strange day. Maybe tomorrow would be better.

'You'll never guess what Hermione has done now,' chatted Harry as they left, 'she's wearing gloves all the time. Says it's good for the skin. Silly girl thing I suppose. Who wants to wear gloves all the time?'

'Sounds like a good idea,' mused Remus slowly, 'We might try it.' Sirius groaned.


	4. Confusing Confrontations

**A/N: Someone asked if I could update more frequently and make longer chapters. Sorry to say that I want to keep the chapters more or less the same length for consistency and I will update depending on how busy/lazy I am at the time. However I do want to keep up with this and your reviews do push me along, so thanks. Hope you enjoy.**

**The Veela Conspiracy**

**Chapter Four: Confusing Confrontations**

Once they had arrived at the Gryffindor common room and found Hermione and Ron, Harry decided that it was perhaps not the best place to settle down for a relaxing morning. He had just begun a nice game of exploding snap with Hermione, whilst Sirius, Remus and Ron whispered frantically in a corner of the room, when he had heard it. A giggle. A high, feminine, slightly hysterical giggle that seemed to say _ohmerlinhe'ssoadorableijustwanttohughimandsqueezehimuntilhecollapses. _Harry's head shot up and he saw eyes, dozens of eyes staring unblinkingly at him. It was at that moment that he realised that this day was not going to get any better.

'Hermione…' he whimpered.

'What is it Harry? You know it's your tu…' Hermione broke off as she saw the Hufflepuffs. '…urn.'

'I didn't think Hufflepuffs knew how to pronounce Supercalifragilisticexpialidocius,' hissed Harry at his frozen friend.

'It's ok Harry,' said Hermione slowly, 'Just relax and make no sudden movements. Come here.' Harry got up slowly and edged towards Hermione and the door. The eyes tracked his movement steadily. 'Ron, Professor Lupin, Sirius. I think we need to go.'

'Just a second Hermione,' called Remus, oblivious to the situation. 'Now Ron you want to support your friend.' Ron looked decidedly green and shifted uneasily.

'It's not like the rest of us aren't going to suffer,' muttered Sirius, who proceeded into grumbling as his husband glared at him.

'And you want him to be safe after all he's been through?' Ron just looked down as if trying to avoid the situation. 'Ron?' prodded Remus.

'Fine,' Ron finally bit out and said as he turned to glare at Harry, 'but I'm keeping my eyes shut.'

Meanwhile Harry was getting more and more upset. He was sure the Hufflepuffs were edging closer and closer and now Ron was glaring at him, and on top of the rejection at breakfast and everybody being so strange, he could feel his eyes getting suspiciously damp.

'If you've finished,' said Hermione 'we need to get out of here.' The three looked up and noticed the Hufflepuffs. _Strange how they all seemed to have fluffy hair. _

'Well call me Merlin's aunt,' said Sirius in bemusement. 'How did they get in here?'

'I didn't know the school had that many Hufflepuff girls' said Remus whilst Ron was just staring at the largest collected group of oestrogen he had ever seen in a ten foot square. More Hufflepuffs appeared from behind the curtains. He took a step back.

'Leave this to me,' pronounced Sirius, striding forwards with confidence. 'I have plenty of experience dealing with Hufflepuff girls. From my Hogwarts days.' He ended with a wink at Remus. Remus mumbled to himself under his breath something about revenge.

'Ladies of Hufflepuff, whose beauty knows no compare…' Sirius noticed with satisfaction the blushes that were strewn across Hufflepuff face and, as he gave them a charming smile, felt satisfaction as the blushes deepened. '…I bring to you a gift in honour of you gentle ways, your sweet smiles, your heaving boso…'

He was cut off by a stinging hex to his posterior sent by his beloved who smiled at him sweetly as he glanced around. Turning his back on the man with a sniff he took out his wand and waved it impressively, the eyes following its every movement. Then with a little poof, there was a fluffy white kitten with a green bow, mewing in front of the fluffy Hufflepuffs. Hermione could swear she saw the stupid girls fall into a puddle at the kitten's feet. However the girls still seemed to be attracted to the potential adorableness of Draco and Harry as the eyes swivelled backwards and forwards between Harry and the kitten. If Harry wasn't careful he'd end up with a green bow around his neck. Thinking quickly she multiplied the kittens, grabbed Harry's arm and ran, followed closely by Ron, Remus and Sirius. Behind them the Hufflepuffs were descending on the kittens. Hermione felt sorry for the felines. Ron felt vaguely jealous.

'Hufflepuffs Sirius?' Remus managed to growl out as they ran away.

'It was before I realised I was gay.'

'That's no excuse.'

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Finally collapsing on the thankfully empty quidditch pitch, Harry gasped and panted in a way that would have had Seamus reaching for a large disguising notebook. He huffed a little as he turned around on his stomach and reached out to scratch Padfoot's stomach, who wriggled away just in time.

'It's not fair.' He whined to his godfather and step-godfather and Ron and Hermione. I thought I was finished with being chased when Voldemort got himself killed. 'But noooooo. Now, for absolutely no reason, Hufflepuffs are chasing me.' His four companions looked at each other awkwardly over Harry's head. He didn't notice. Instead, not being happy with the complete lack of sympathy he had just received, he continued, 'and it's especially horrible after this morning and Parvati in front of the _WHOLE SCHOOL_.'

'What's this?' said Sirius, having morphed back in confusion and firmly dragging Harry's oblivious hand with his gloved one away from it's proximity to his groin. He smiled apologetically to Remus who ignored him. _Oh the canine was soooo getting punished tonight!_

Harry perked up with someone responding to his woes and told the whole sorry story.

'…and everybody heard and now all the girls will think I'm pathetic and never want to go out with me.'

'W..e..elll,' said Remus, clearing his throat and trying not to laugh. 'I'm sure it's not half as bad as you think it is.'

'And besides,' pointed out Hermione slyly, 'There are always the boys.'

'The boys,' said Harry blankly. Ron rolled his eyes. After catching Harry glancing one too many times in places that should not be mentioned during shower time after quidditch, he was no longer delusional about Harry's sexual orientation. However Harry seemed to be trying to take self-delusion to levels previously un-reached by wizardkind.

'Anyway,' continued Harry as if no one had said anything remotely connected to boys, 'Do you think Parvati will want to go out with me after her date with Neville?'

'Harry,' said Sirius slowly.

'Yes?' Harry blinked up adorably at his godfather, who once again cursed the Malfoy veela spawn that he was going to have to watch this innocent creature orgasm.

'You know how me and Remus live together and are married and stuff.' Remus smiled affectionately at his husband's complete lack of ability at expressing himself.

'Yep,' chirped Harry.

'Well it's mostly because I'd do anything for Remus and I know he'll always be there for me and we love each other.' Remus tried to blink his tears away inconspicuously and Harry sighed at the romance. 'But it's also because he's a man and I like men. I like men's hair and their muscles. I like their lack of breasts and their arses and their cocks.' Remus growled. 'But especially Remus' cock,' Remus grinned and blushed at the same time. 'And Remus likes my cock as well.' Sirius paused and then added unnecessarily. 'Because Remus also likes men.' Then he added to Harry, who had been staring at him half shocked by his proclamation. 'Do y' see where I'm going with this?'

'Msehaouhb,' whimpered Harry confusedly.

'Harry,' said Ron bluntly, 'Do you like breasts?'

'Of course. They're very nice,' said Harry primly.

'Very nice!' expostulated Ron. 'They're not very nice, they're bleeding fantastic. I mean just look at the way they jiggle and move. All fluidic and hypnotic; like a lava lamp! Look at Hermione's for instance.'

Hermione glared as eyes swivelled to her chest. She crossed her arms decisively. 'Let's _not_ look at Hermione's breasts_ for instance_.'

'Yeah…well…' said Ron awkwardly. 'The point is Harry, you're not looking at Hermione's breasts, because you're too busy staring at Seamus' abs, or Dean's arms…'

'…or Malfoy's arse,' interjected Hermione smugly.

'Yeah!' said Ron emphatically. 'Or Malfoy's arse! I don't know how you catch the snitch when we have a match against Slytherin because I swear you're always staring at his arse. And the way you act in the showers, brushing up to everyone whenever you can. And the other day you asked me if I thought Blaise Zabini's eyes are pretty. NO I DON'T THINK HIS EYES ARE PRETTY. BECAUSE I'M NOT GAY.' He bellowed. 'BUT YOU ARE GAY HARRY.'

Harry squeaked.

'GAY.'

Harry fainted.

'I don't think that was the best way to break it to him Ron,' said Remus, who was frankly a little awed at the performance.

'Well he had it coming to him,' said Ron sulkily and then under his breath, 'Always staring at my cock in the showers.'

When Harry finally came round it took a little forceful persuasion from his friends to prevent him from purposefully forgetting the conversation had ever taken place. And then it took some further persuasion to prevent Harry from denying every word they had said, including Remus' and Sirius' wedding. Ron didn't know why he didn't just admit it. It wasn't like it was that big a deal.

'It's probably because he is subconsciously afraid of being rejected for being different, due to his childhood with the Dursleys,' surmised Hermione. 'And most muggles do tend to regard homosexuality as different.'

'HEY!' said Harry indignantly as he got up determinedly. 'I am not some project for you to practice your amateur psychology on.'

'I think she's very good,' said Sirius.

'She's not good,' he muttered before continuing loudly. 'And if I say I am not gay then I AM NOT GAY.' Harry's eyes wandered sideways and down as Sirius took off his shirt and stretched out, in the admittedly not very warm sun.

'Harry,' said Remus loudly to catch his attention. 'I'd appreciate it if you didn't stare at my husband.

'I was watching the butterfly,' said Harry indignantly.

'What butterfly?'

'It was there.' Harry blushed at the rather lame reply. His four friends just looked meaningfully at each other and were relieved to know that at least on some level Harry was aware of his fairy nature. Then they noticed he was staring determinedly at Hermione's breasts.

'Harry!'

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_YOU ARE GAY HARRY YOU ARE GAY HARRY YOU ARE GAY HARRY YOU ARE GAY HARRY YOU ARE GAY HARRY YOU ARE GAY HARRY YOU ARE GAY HARRY_

The words circled in his brain endlessly and Harry pouted to himself as he led the group back into the castle. Why were his friends always confusing him? He turned a corner leading up to the entrance and bumped into something warm and solid and seemingly unmoveable. Harry, however, was not unmoveable and would have bounced back onto his oh so firm buttocks if arms rippling with hard muscle hadn't wrapped themselves round his considerably smaller form and tugged him closer into the large firm body.

'Wha…' His voice broke off as his face was pressed into someone's chest where he could feel rumbling. It was strange; it was almost as though the person holding him was purring.

'Oh for Merlin's sake,' he could hear Sirius say.

Harry pushed aside the rather large part of him that thought it was rather nice to stay wrapped up in these large warm arms, and pushed on the chest that he was pressed against.

'Draco!' Harry heard a voice speak warningly. Malfoy! It was Malfoy holding him. He pushed again, and broke free as the arms let him go slowly and reluctantly. Harry stumbled back and, regaining his balance, looked up at Malfoy and then down again. _Damn Malfoy for being taller than him._

Remembering all Dumbledore had said about putting past resentments behind them after the war, Harry bit back the rude comment that was aching to spring forth and simply said, 'Sorry.'

When Malfoy didn't reply Harry looked up again and saw that the big blonde boy was staring at him in a way that was disturbingly reminiscent of the Hufflepuffs. But they were just psychotic, where there was something strangely inhuman about the silver glow of Malfoy's eyes.

'You all there Malfoy?'

With the lack of response Harry reached up to poke Malfoy on the head, but his wrist was grasped mid-poke and Malfoy gently, but very firmly, brought Harry's finger to his mouth. He started to suck on it gently.

'Malfoy, what the fu…' Harry whimpered before being cut off by Sirius.

'Language, young man!'

'But Padfoot he's…' Harry didn't know how to finish the sentence. He didn't know what Malfoy _was_ doing. Malfoy began lapping at the end of Harry's finger with his tongue, before letting Harry's finger go to lap at his palm. Harry blushed a brilliant, glowing red. Everyone else seemed vaguely stunned by the turn of events.

'Help.' Harry half moaned, half whined. Draco growled. Then Blaise Zabini shook himself out of his stupor and went to Harry's rescue.

'Draco you really should let got of Potter.' Malfoy ignored him. Pansy Parkinson stepped up to help.

'You wouldn't want to jeopardize your future would you?' There seemed to be some slight reaction from Malfoy, who looked at his friends but didn't stop his molestation of Harry's hand. Then Harry gave a little squeak as Malfoy found a particularly sensitive portion of his wrist, and Malfoy lost all interest in his friends.

'Sometimes you have to do everything yourself' Hermione hissed. 'Stupefy!'

Looking down at Malfoy who was in a beautiful blond pile at his feet, Harry was a little surprised the situation had been resolved so quickly, and a tiny, a very tiny, bit disappointed. _That tongue! _He scratched the back of his neck absently.

'Thanks Hermione.' Hermione nodded. 'Zabini, Parkinson.' He addressed the Slytherin pair. 'What the hell is wrong with Malfoy?' Harry asked agitatedly.

'A minor infection,' said Pansy Parkinson. 'It'll affect his behaviour for the next week or so. Hopefully by then he'll have control over it.' Harry shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he felt her eyes boring into him. It seemed as though Zabini said softly 'I wish I had an infection like that,' but when he looked up Zabini's face was blank. It was odd because everybody else seemed to be glaring at him. Harry shrugged it off.

'Will you be able to deal with Malfoy for now?' Harry asked politely, indicating the body at his feet.

'We'll manage,' said Parkinson smoothly. 'You'd better run along to do whatever Gryffindors do. I heard that there were some kittens stuck up a tree. It sounds like your style.'

'We'll be going then,' said Hermione frostily, and lead the group into the castle. As Harry passed Zabini he glanced into the boys eyes and shivered. _Such pretty eyes_. Stopping himself abruptly at that thought, he rushed to catch up with Hermione.

When he bumped into a wall whilst fixedly staring at her breasts, he decided there were definite hazards involved in being heterosexual.


	5. Bubbles and Beauty

**A/N: Wow, it feels like a heck of long time since I last wrote. Besides the usual disclaimer, I borrowed something from the Blackadder television series in the chapter (if anybody knows about that). Anybody who finds it gets…well nothing, because this is the internet you know. Usually don't like to include references to other stuff but this just happened so never mind. At the moment I'm leaning away from making this mpreg. If anybody has strong opinions on this, feel free to express them. Thanks to Hope4Faith who helped me out when I got stuck. Hope you enjoy.**

**The Veela Conspiracy**

**Chapter Five: Bubbles and Beauty**

Professor Severus Snape looked at the clock at the back of the potions room with despair. It was true. He still had 57 minutes of this beyond awful class.

'Professor Snape?' The man in question practically snarled as he looked down at a strangely timid member of the Gryffindor race.

'What?' He hissed. The student trembled slightly, but very definitely.

'I was just wondering what you wanted us to do today.' The student said nervously. At this point the other fourth year Gryffindors would have been plotting their revenge on the member of their house bringing work down upon them, if not for the fact that they had all been distinctly disturbed by the expression that had been on Professor Snape's face all day.

Still more disturbing, it had been there even before the discovery of his teddy bear Bubbles hanging by a noose above his seat in the Great Hall at lunchtime. Dumbledore had awarded ten points to whoever it was that had managed the impressive charm-work that had the bear hanging from nowhere, and all anybody knew was that the perpetrator belonged in Hufflepuff. Professor Flitwick had been almost giddy at the discovery of the first talented Hufflepuff since Cedric Diggory had become the newest freckle on the nose of the Great Pixie in the Sky. But then was brought back down to earth by the fact that nobody had any more idea who it was.

'Why don't you all practice chopping, slicing and shredding,' suggested Professor Snape almost casually. 'There's ginger, arnica and belladonna in the storage cupboards.' They stared at him, unbelieving that he would really make them chop for almost an hour. And Slice and Shred. 'Moooovvvee!' Professor Snape roared finally. They scattered. The professor leaned back in his chair, satisfied that he'd got the pesky students out of his hair. His very refined and dignified hair that wasn't at all frivolous, no matter what anyone else might say about it.

At least the Potter boy wasn't in this class. Snape closed his eyes and shuddered. The last two nights had been horrifying. No! The sight of Bubbles so thoughtlessly strung up had been horrifying. This was something else. He had held a sort of sick fascination for the process that the Boy who got Lucky and Defeated a Dark Lord, otherwise known as the Hero of the Wizarding World, would undergo every night. Then he was faced with the reality.

The first night had an utterly smug Draco leading Severus Snape, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black down to Potter's dorm- room where a shifty eyed Weasley had been waiting for them. The four had positioned themselves around Potters bed whilst Draco had stealthily approached his intended who was shifting restlessly. Snape snorted when Potter calmed as Draco came nearer; until Draco turned and glared so virulently that Snape almost stepped back. Then he remembered the presence of Black and Lupin and gathered his precious dignity and managed to look very dignified despite standing next to a Veela slobbering all over its now semi-conscious and pheromone controlled mate.

The Weasley boy had held his face averted for the entire time with his eyes screwed up and flinched every time an amorous noise echoed through the room, which happened frequently. Lupin had tried to appear entirely unaffected and only curious from an academic point of view, but had blushed in embarrassment within the first five minutes and had grown increasingly redder as time passed. Black bore the look of a stoic warrior determined to undergo any hardship with noble endurance, until Draco had tugged on Harry's hair mid-orgasm and screamed his pleasure, at which point the dog's owner had had to hold him back. Snape had been disgusted…and of course dignified.

However when Draco proceeded to _pleasure_ Potter, Snape had felt the bile rise in his throat. Besides the idea of his godson finding all that shortness and untidy hair attractive, it had reminded Snape all too clearly of the time in his Seventh year when he had caught the Potter's parents mid coitus in an empty classroom. This added to the fact that it was _Potter_ made Snape want to lose his dinner of liver stew.

The night reached its pinnacle of awfulness as Potter expelled his seminal fluid with force just as Draco drew back for a second. And of course the vile liquid just _had_ to end up in Snape's oh so dignified hair. Black went into silent hysterics at the Potion Professor's frozen face, Lupin smirked (and since when had he been allowed to do that). Weasley was unaware due to having his eyes shut (Thank Morgana for small mercies) (because Merlin is just too plebeian for words!))

And then _of course_ Draco had to do it again. Because of course the Draco just _had_ to taste Potter's semen. Snape had cast an _Evanesco_ on the putrescent liquid in his hair before Draco could get close enough to lick it off. The Veela had pouted slightly before realising that this meant he got to pleasure his mate-to-be again. By the end of the night Black actually looked bored, Lupin looked dazed and the Weasley was asleep, having suffered nothing whatsoever. The next night Snape had ensured that he was at a respectable distance from the pair.

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But what was perhaps more hilarious than the nightly incidents were disturbing, was Potter's complete ignorance of what was happening between him and Draco. For some reason the brat had begun to read girlie magazines in very public places, emitting very fake groans whenever anyone passed him. And Snape knew that they were fake because he had heard the real ones. And more than one teacher had deducted points from him for staring at student's breasts, and even one or two Professor's slightly sagging bosoms. McGonagall had never been so shocked in her life. Or so she declared. Snape privately thought she'd been flattered. Which, in Snape's opinion, she shouldn't be, because Potter had no more ability to appreciate the female form than Hagrid could convincingly play the unicorn in the first year's annual production of _Who Stole Magic from the Forest?_

Draco had taken to stalking his emotionally disturbed future mate, with his cronies of course, only to find himself enraged at the way Potter blushed prettily at Zabini and not him. And he was still more enraged when Potter tried to slip an arm around Parkinson's waist. Snape briefly considered playing with this situation for his own amusement before wondering about Lucius' reaction, and, come to that, Draco's. He hugged Bubbles tighter and discretely shot a Flaky Skin Curse at the student second row from the back, second seat from the right, who sniggered slightly.

No, his life was difficult enough with the return of Lockhart as DADA Professor without adding the Malfoys to the mix. Lockhart had been cured, shortly after Voldemort's defeat to the eternal disappointment of many of his students. Albus had only said mildly, when hotly questioned by Snape why he would let such a narcissistic imbecile back into the school, let alone to teach, 'It is now a time of peace. I think the students have earned a rest. Don't you agree?' Snape didn't think any such thing, but since Albus had pushed a lemon drop into the Potion Professor's mouth, he didn't have the opportunity to say so.

'Sir?' The Professor looked up, decidedly disgruntled, to meet the eyes of the nervous Gryffindor. His eyes moved to the bored students standing next to clean work surfaces and then to the clock which declared that the lesson had been over for five minutes.

'Oh very well, get out all of you!' The students scattered with all the eagerness of Minerva who had caught the scent of catnip.

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Harry turned his head left, he turned it right, he nodded it up and down. Something, he decided, was different. He'd been looking into this mirror for almost an hour, and he was convinced something had changed. He was sure that his hair had not been this _shiny_ a couple of days ago, nor had his lips been so red…well, at least not since he last tried Hermione's strawberry lip-gloss. It wasn't as if he wanted his lips to look redder, he just liked the taste and there was nothing wrong with liking the taste of strawberry lip gloss.

He moved closer to the mirror so that his nose was practically touching it…his nose, that was another thing it seemed have got more dainty. He squeaked. There was no way in Merlin's cauldron that his nose, a male nose, should be looking that dainty all of a sudden. It was like Snape getting up and dancing a jig on a toadstool on St. Patrick's Day whilst wearing a bunny rabbit costume.

Having absolutely no answer for this mysterious occurrence, Harry proceeded to perform his monthly facial hair inspection. He turned his head again inspecting his left side moving closer. Maybe a beard would start to show soon? It was a question he asked himself frequently and it had seemed that the hair on his face had become darker and thicker recently. But today, alas, there was no shadow. To the contrary it seemed that his face had been wiped of any hair that could have identified him in any way as a man. Inspecting the other cheek he found nothing more than skin that was as smooth as a baby's behind. Harry tried to growl but only came out with another small squeak.

'Harry my boy, you are looking fine today,' Seamus said as he strolled nonchalantly towards Harry. He seemed as though he was going to hug Harry from behind before he seemed to check himself and went to sit on his bed.

Harry thought it was all very well saying he looked good, but the way people seemed to be avoiding him couldn't have anything to do with him looking good. He pouted a little to himself, which looked revoltingly girly, and said dismissively, 'Sure, yeah.'

Seamus was a little put out. He liked flirting with Harry; and Harry usually responded on some level, even if he wasn't quite aware of it. The brunette was just _too_ delicious.

'Planning on a date for this Hogsmeade weekend?' Seamus asked before suggesting slyly, 'You could borrow my leather trousers. We'd have to shrink them a bit, but it'd definitely be worth it. Yes…' He paused gazing off into the distance and licking his lips, '…worth it.'

Harry missed Seamus' daydreaming but instead said distractedly, and slightly hysterically, 'What d'you mean, shrink them? I'm manly enough to fit in your trousers. Are you saying I'm girly?'

'No, no.' Seamus said hastily, 'you're all man…' The assertion might have been more convincing if he hadn't painted Harry's nails pink earlier in the day.

'I'll prove I can get into your trousers, here...take those off…'

'Harry, what?!' Seamus backed away hurriedly as Harry advanced towards him and leapt up just as Harry dove for him. Somehow managing to keep out of the brunette reach he leapt over furniture, Harry following closely behind, until he finally dashed for the door.

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Ron was deeply involved in his chess game with Dean in the Great Hall, not that it was _that_ challenging, but letting Dean think he was winning was always funny. He was just pretending to act upset when Dean took a pawn of his, when Seamus sprinted into the Hall, looked around for a bit, before rushing over to them.

'Hide me.' He hissed.

'What?' Ron said dumbly.

'Hide me.' Seamus hissed again looking agitatedly towards the entrance to the Great Hall.

Ron sighed. 'Seamus, if it's that Hufflepuff boy trying to get back together with you again, you should just be honest and tell him you're not interested in a relationship at the moment.' Hermione's influence had taught Ron an emotional intelligance that was bewildering to his friends.

'Shut up about that, it's Harry. He's trying to get into my trousers!' whispered Seamus, mindful of the veela on the other side of the room.

'What?' said Ron, moving his knight whilst Dean gaped at Seamus.

'Harry's trying to get into my trousers,' roared Seamus finally losing patience. It was perhaps unfortunate that he shouted this just as there was a general lull in conversation in the hall and Harry rushed in panting with cheeks flushed, and looking rather attractive in the opinion of several students.

'Seamus! I want Seamus!'

Seamus ducked under the table, hoping to avoid the attention and wrath of the terrifying force of nature that was the current character of Draco Malfoy. Fortunately for him, Draco's attention was entirely caught up with his unsuspecting submissive.

The tall blonde stalked towards Harry in manner that reminded a Hufflepuff third year girl of a white Bengal tiger. Her Ravenclaw friends told her not to be silly. Harry, frantically scanning the crowd in the room and standing on dainty tip-toes to do so, did not notice the advance of the Slytherin until it was too late.

Suddenly finding himself uncomfortably close to the youngest Malfoy, Harry looked up to meet a silver gaze that made him feel decidedly uncomfortable.

'Malfoy,' he tried to say evenly (but it came out a bit wobbly).

'I hear you're trying to get into Finnegan's trousers,' drawled Malfoy sexily.

_Not sexily_ thought Harry. _Boys aren't sexy_.

Meanwhile Malfoy had continued, 'I wouldn't advise it. You don't know where they've been.' Seamus burned with indignation under the Gryffindor table for a moment, before deciding it was a fair thing to say.

'He said I was too girly to fit in them. I was trying to prove him wrong,' pouted Harry. Seamus was fairly certain he'd never said anything of the sort; not that Harry hadn't become a bit girly lately. When he'd been eating his banana for breakfast, the site of those recently acquired cherry red lips had made several boys within viewing range decidedly uncomfortable.

'I wouldn't say you're girly,' purred Draco, 'just improved in places. And besides, why didn't you try on a pair of trousers that the leprechaun wasn't wearing.'

Harry blinked distractedly as Malfoy sort of moved closer, if that was possible, 'I didn't think of that.'

Ron rolled his eyes and looked at Dean saying, 'He didn't think of it because he's gayer than a fruit cocktail.'

'I just think it's unfair that Malfoy gets to have him,' piped Seamus from under the table, watching between Gryffindors' legs as the veela pulled a dazed looking Harry towards the Slytherins.

'Shut up Seamus. At least you don't have to watch man love every night.'

'Oh Ron, so naïve! I like to watch man love.'

'I bet,' said Ron grimly. 'I've heard stories of your stalking tendencies.'

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Meanwhile Harry was confused. He'd come into the Great Hall hell bent on grabbing Seamus' trousers and humiliating him in front of the school for calling him girly, and somehow it had all ended up with Malfoy dragging him to the Slytherin table and placing him upon his lap, whilst he could see Parkinson practically cooing. Dazed into submission by the surrealistic situation and sitting unresisting whilst Malfoy stroked him arm, his cheek, basically any inch of readily available skin, Harry wondered what in Merlin's lacy underpants was going on? Maybe he should just stare into Zabini's pretty eyes. That always soothed him.


	6. Introducing Gilderoy Lockhart

**A/N: Many, many apologies for the long wait. My computer broke so I lost what I had written for this chapter and also my plan and all my notes. I've kind of had to try and come up with something new from what I could remember I planned to do. Plus, I admit it, I've been lazy. In consolation this chapter is the longest yet. I'm a bit nervous about whether this chapter follows on well and about it in general but I hope you enjoy. **

**The Veela Conspiracy**

**Chapter Six: Introducing Gilderoy Lockhart **

Professor Gilderoy Lockhart sat in his comfortable, yet somehow extremely stylish and expensive armchair, with uncomfortable sense of insecurity niggling beneath his carefully coiffed golden curls. 

Here he was, fully restored to his magnificent former self and no longer dribbling porridge in his hair, and did anybody care? No they did not. They were too busy worshipping the Potter boy. Even his former editor was too busy trying to persuade Potter to write his memoirs to care very much that her previously very successful protégée was now out of hospital, accompanied by a nine hundred and seventy six paged scathing attack on the long health care available to magically mentally handicapped witches and wizards entitled 'PORRIDGE IN MY HAIR: the truth about magical health care!' 

He had even gone through the indignity of supplying before and after photos but the editor's secretary had sent him away without even seeing her. Well at least he'd managed to get a date with the buxom redhead. Former Hufflepuff if he had it right; they always had appreciated him as he deserved. He sipped his Cosmopolitan in satisfaction until the cooing lovebirds in the golden cage in the corner of his room brought him back to his grievances. He shook his head in a flurry of indignant curls. 

Here he was, fully restored to the prestigious position of teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, with the right to have absolute respect, attention and adoration from his pupils, and they spent most of the time either sleeping, or flipping bits of paper. And, if the Potter boy happened to be in the room, eyes invariably wandered in his direction. That was the cherry that topped the fairy cake. In a bad way! Gilderoy hated cherries. To have a little chit of a boy _with bad hair_ steal the attention, when a demigod in lavender robes was standing in front them was just taking disrespect too far. 

All this Gilderoy had been able to bear with a fortitude that deserved it own medal and possibly even a commendation from the Ministry, but recent events had changed things. At least, even when the foolish pupils had been staring at the Boy-With-Bad-Hair, he had known that he was far superior in polish, attractiveness, beauty and all things appearance related. But ever since Malfoy had picked out the boy as his mate, Potter's appearance had been daily enhanced. One day his lips would be redder and poutier, the next day luminous skin put Gilderoy's alabaster brow to shame, just yesterday he had watched with indignation as students left and right had followed Potter's figure with bated breath as he crossed the Great Hall. This could not continue. 

Pulling out his little portable mirror (the most important accessory any sensible wizard who thought anything of themselves always carried) out of his pocket, he anxiously checked if the curl at the front was lying at an angle of precisely forty-five degrees to the one behind his ear. He sighed in relief as he saw that it was, but bounced on his cushions as his cuckoo clock pronounced it was three o'clock and therefore time for the torture that was known as DADA with Potter (and the other ones). 

He hastily went to put his mirror back into his robes, but stopped abruptly when he saw something alarming in its reflection. Was that a _wrinkle_? He examined the place carefully, angling his head awkwardly to catch the light. Then he laughed at his silliness, of course, it was probably just the mirror that had a wrinkle. He bustled out of the room with a shimmer of purple silk and a scent of lilacs.

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'Beware young witches and wizards of the Infractus Curse!' 

The lavender robes fluttered and flittered around him with all the drama of a butterfly as he burst into the room; and Gilderoy noticed with satisfaction the collective gaze of awe from the class as he perched stylishly upon one corner of his desk. The professor quickly checked his appearance in window to his right and preened. _Oh my, his hair was looking fine today!_

Gilderoy continued, rather too loud. 'However do not fear this most dreaded and dangerous spell. I will tell you exactly how I managed to save myself from it and certain death in the rainforests of Brazil. But first the register!' 

He completely failed to notice that once the initial shock of his appearance had faded, everyone had gone back to their previous activities. Hermione was leading a small study group with Ravenclaws clustered round in a circle.

'Well yes actually, the Infractus curse will only cause minimum damage to small bones. Though...' added Hermione with a twinkle that could have rivalled Dumbledore on a happy day, '...there would probably be complications if the victim had a Glamourie charm on at the time.' The Ravenclaws tittered. Ron just rolled his eyes. He had given up trying to understand Hermione's sense of humour; which required a detailed knowledge of just about everything. 

Looking on Gilderoy thought they were gossiping about him. He also noticed the amorous couple towards the back of the room but assumed they were inspired by his presence. Ego full to bursting, he pulled out the register and began calling out names. It was going to be a good lesson. 

Several minutes later Professor Lockhart was entirely disillusioned. Having to call each pupils name at least twice before they noticed was not exactly his idea of respect and appreciation. The Ravenclaw boy with the girl grinding on top of him had been called about seven times before finally Longbottom, who was sitting behind them reading a book, nudged him firmly in the backside with his foot. The grinding had stopped for about two seconds before beginning again. 

Of course Potter _had_ to be the exception and answer his name as soon as it was spat out, with liquid eyes gazing innocently. Gilderoy Lockhart's eyes sparkled back competitively. He was about to pass onto the next name, when he looked back suspiciously at Potter. It was true. The hair that had formerly resembled an untidy bird's nest now was delightfully rumpled. Charming locks of gleaming ebony hair now framed Potters face to perfection. Gilderoy scowled. Something had to be done before Malfoy completed this transformation and Potter became officially more gorgeous than him. His eyes screwed up in thought (without any of those annoying lines that plagued Professor McGonagall). The register lay carelessly abandoned besides him. 

After an hour of exhausting thought and an extensive manicure, Gilderoy had come up with a scheme that he was sure was so cunning that it would be sure to defeat the...the _Slytheriness _of Malfoy, especially as Malfoy had been a bit off ever since this unfortunate situation began. He brushed aside any thoughts of the revenge that Malfoy would choose to inflict on him. The damage that Dumbledore had preached could be inflicted on the submissive mate was probably exaggerated. Gilderoy clucked his tongue on his teeth in exasperation. It was just more of the melodrama that seemed to surround Potter. And, he mused, examining his fingernails absently, Malfoy would probably be grateful to him eventually. When he was teaching them in their second year, they hated each other. 

Noticing that the class was just about finished he gathered his manicure kit together. He looked around the classroom with a sense of peace soothing his troubled soul. And he was able to look upon Potter's delicate features with indifference. _Soon, soon they would be gone._ He dismissed the class, and was able to give Potter who was heading for the door his warmest smile. The smile disappeared as he overheard the Granger girl say to her red-headed boyfriend as they left the room, 'I don't know what I was thinking in second year. I mean, Lockhart's so old. He's got _wrinkles_.' 

The red-head replied, 'I don't know who he thinks he's fooling with the wig either.' Gilderoy tugged his (very real) hair angrily. Never, _never _had he been so insulted. The plan must definitely go ahead.

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As Defence against the Dark Arts was the last lesson of the day, the Gryffindors headed off to their common room, most of them laughing at a joke Seamus had made, and linked arm in arm. Except Harry. Ron and Hermione were off to one side, whispering in each-others ears, as they had been doing all week. There were also some girls giving a friend hair advice at the back. But around Harry, as there had been for what felt like weeks, a large circle of nothingness loomed. It was as though he was in a bubble. And Harry didn't like it. 

He could put up with Parvati going out with Neville (which was purely temporary). He endured the extremely strange fashion craze of wearing gloves that had been going around recently. He'd put up with the steadily increasing insanity of Hufflepuff females (though it seemed to be extending to the Hufflepuff boys who had been looking at him strangely of late). All in all Harry considered himself to be an extremely patient bloke. Hell, he had even put up with the Dursleys! But he would not stand with being treated like a leper any longer. Once they got back to the common room, he was going to have a little chat with his fellow Gryffindors. Harry felt a cackle rising in his throat, and an evil, almost seductive expression crept across his face. Seamus, who had turned around for a second, almost swooned. 

Harry made sure he was the last to enter the common room, so that that when he entered he slammed the door with a crash. He could hear the Fat Lady complaining volubly but ignored it. She could be charmed later. He stood in an intimidating attitude, ready to intimidate the hell out of anyone that refused to answer his questions. 

'Right! I want to know exactly what's going on.'

The other Gryffindors had turned around quickly with the sudden noise, ready with Gryffindor spirit to destroy the evil that had invaded their domain. Thus some were disappointed when all they saw was a petite wizard in the process of being claimed by a veela. Some turned back to their conversations immediately. Some had a feeling of annoyance that they had to give him up to a Slytherin, and not just any Slytherin but the blond Slytherin. No-one was particularly intimidated. After all Harry looked about as threatening as a fluffy cushion.

Harry, however, refused to be dismissed. 

'Well?' he asked with the tone of voice Seamus like to call _Harry trying to play dominant in the bedroom, shortly before he is swept up in Seamus' arms. _

'Erm, what do you mean Harry?' said Ron in an overly innocent voice, eyes wide in gormless idiocy. Hermione looked at him in exasperation. She thought she'd whipped that expression out of him. 

'What do I mean? What do you mean what do I mean? I think it's quite obvious what I mean.' Harry's voice got louder with each successive sentence. 

The Gryffindors looked at Harry blankly, and then they looked at each other blankly, and then they looked at Harry blankly again. Most of them hoped that if they didn't say anything, maybe Harry would forget about it and go away. They only had a couple more days to get through. And it wasn't as though they _liked_ not touching Harry. Most of them usually took advantage of their shared house to touch him as much as possible. Luckily Harry was very physically affectionate. The seconds ticked by.

'Why won't anybody touch me?' Harry screeched.

'Now Harry, that isn't true,' said Seamus reassuringly, 'I hugged you just last week, remember?' 

'This week, THIS WEEK.' Harry screeched again, stamping his foot on the ground in a way which had most of the Gryffindors wanting to hug him. (Except Seamus who wanted to take him over his knee and well...you get the idea)

The Gryffindors stood there en masse, unsure what to do. Harry's face suddenly crumpled, pretty tears decorating his eyelashes.

'Do you...not like me anymore?' He whispered pathetically, visibly drooping. This was too much for Seamus. He rushed up and...patted his pretty friend on his pretty head with a gloved hand. (Leather)

'There, there.' He said rather lamely. 'Of course we still like you.'

'Yeah mate,' said Ron reassuringly, 'who would I have to prank Snape with, if you weren't my friend?' 

'That's all very well but why won't you touch me? And that doesn't count,' hissed Harry slapping Seamus' hand aside. Then he continued with rather a scornful tone. 'And I don't know why you're all wearing gloves all of a sudden. You look silly.' Neville looked at him, rather outraged as he held a bonsai tree in his gloved hands. Harry, usually terrified by one of Neville glances, was not put off. 'Silly! I'm the only normal one. Well...me and Malfoy.'

'HAH!' exclaimed Ron. 'Malfoy's touched you this week. HAH!' Hermione slapped him round the head. He looked at her. She looked at him significantly. He squeaked in realisation. 'Whoops.' They looked back to Harry, practically seeing the wheels turning in his head. They winced. Malfoy was going to kill them. Worse, Sirius was going to kill them. 

Harry's head was spinning. Events were linking in his brain. Dra...Malfoy wasn't wearing gloves. Parkinson had said Draco was ill. Malfoy had hugged Harry to an inch of his life, breathing all over him. There could be only one explanation.

'Now Harry,' Hermione said soothingly, 'it's ok. Everything will be ok.'

'I can't believe it,' whispered Harry shaking his head. 

'We'll help you through it,' said Ron comfortingly. 

'Why didn't you tell me I have a disease?' said Harry brokenly. Hermione's face became bemused.

'Well I wouldn't exactly call it a disease,' said Ron obliviously, 'More a condition really...' Hermione elbowed him harshly. Her boyfriend glared at her. Really! She was insatiable. There was a time and a place for these things. 

'I mean that's what happened isn't it. I caught that infection thing that Malfoy had. And now you all won't touch me in case you catch it.' Hermione nodded slowly, seeing a way out of this situation.

'What is it? It affects people's behaviour, right?' 

Hermione nodded, 'Oh yes. But they're not sure what it is. That's why Snape has been so grumpy lately; he's losing sleep trying to find a cure. Malfoy spends his free time researching it in the library. You should join him. I mean Dumbledore's been downplaying its seriousness. That's why Parkinson said it'll go away in a week or so. But we really don't know.' 

Harry didn't question how Hermione knew all this as he was preoccupied by another thought. 'But I haven't been displaying any strange behaviour.'

'Um...' For once in her life Hermione was stuck.

'Of course...' Harry said in relief. He thought of all the times lately that he had been affected by inappropriate thoughts about boys. And Malfoy had been touching him strangely when Parkinson said he had the illness. This explained everything. 'That must be it.'

'What must be it?' said Ron suspiciously.

'Nothing!' said Harry quickly blushing.

'Harry...' said Hermione warningly, and then she was struck by inspiration, 'If you don't tell us we might not be able to find a cure.'

Harry looked at the Gryffindors grouped curiously around and listening closely. He suddenly wished he hadn't captured the attention of the entire common room. 'You remember the conversation we had with Padfoot and Moony,' the brunette said looking significantly at the other two parts of the Gryffindor trio, trying to be cryptic.

'Oh yeah,' said Ron, with the gormless expression on his face again, '...about you being gay. I remember Harry.' Hermione wondered why she bothered. Then looking at Ron's muscled arms, remembered.

Harry's blushes wouldn't have been out of place if a virgin wore them in a whorehouse. Seamus _wished_ he could touch Harry. Neville thought it was about time someone brought the subject up. 

'Ron,' Harry whined, elongating the word unrealistically until it lost all meaning. He'd heard Hermione saying Ron's name like that once and had quite liked the sound. He continued shyly, 'Yeah, I mean that. _That's_ the weird behaviour I've been showing.'

'Crap.' Ron said. _Crap, Malfoy and Sirius were really going to kill them._

'Erm Harry,' Hermione said carefully, 'Being gay isn't a disease.' She continued when an expression of obstinacy crossed her friend's face. 'You do know that right?'

'Harry?'


	7. A Night in the Life of Gilderoy Lockhart

**A/N: Yes I know it's been forever and I'm sorry. Thank you so much for all the reviews that have kept me going.**

**Chapter Seven: A Night in the Life of Gilderoy Lockhart**

It was midnight and the owls were all dozing in the Owlery, the house elves were snoring in their little beds and Gilderoy Lockhart was stalking silently through the corridors and halls to Gryffindor Tower. He was dressed in a black body stocking that showed off his muscles to their best advantage despite the fact that the last thing he wanted was to be seen that night. _But at least the portraits can appreciate my fabulous physique_, he told himself.

As a matter of fact the portraits were all fast asleep, besides the Fat Lady and a certain distinguished gentleman from a portrait painted and spelled in the 1800's who were meeting in a beautiful landscape painting which, to the Fat Lady's delight, included a cliché romantic sunset. Luckily for Gilderoy the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower was left open (the Fat Lady didn't want to get into trouble if there was a fire or some similar catastrophe) and he pranced forwards on his tippy-toes.

The first thing that assaulted Gilderoy was the smell and he recoiled in horror. Old Quidditch socks mingled with a certain something he couldn't define. This was undoubtedly a place where teenage boys reigned supreme. He shuddered. Probably some of the Gryffindor girls had attempted _Smell-like-a-rose_ charms in attempt to improve the odour. Gilderoy suspected the socks by themselves would have been less pungent. He decided to plough through as quickly as possible.

This was, however, only the first thing that he noticed. The second was a muffled giggling and groaning coming from one of the sofa's hidden by shadows. Assuming that someone hadn't cast an animation charm on the furniture and the room was in fact occupied, Gilderoy stopped mid step and promptly fell into a very graceful heap on the floor. _Oh shiny diamonds! He could get fired for this. Sneaking into a teenager's bedroom at might was very possibly one of those things that people would misunderstand. _He closed his eyes in horror. _Especially with Potter looking so pretty all of a sudden_.

However at that moment a shadow of something like courage entered his face, which would have startled anyone who would have happened to see it. _He must continue. This situation could not be tolerated_.

'Ohhhhhh Seamus!' Giggle. Giggle. Sigh.

It shouldn't be too difficult to get past those two. They were well and truly wrapped up in each other and that haze known as teenage hormones.

_And, _reflected Gilderoy,_ Headmaster Dumbledore had been remarkably forgiving about the whole Obliviate incident, saying only that he had learnt his lesson._ _But he had better hurry_, he checked his pocket watch,_ Veela boy and Professor Snape and the others would be coming in about half an hour._

'Ohhhhh Blaise!' A more masculine voice rang out this time and was followed by a thump. Gilderoy deduced that this _Seamus_ had just been whacked round the head. He ducked into the doorway that would lead to the boy's dormitories, hearing a shrill voice echo behind him.

'Bunny!' Smack. 'My. Name. Is. Bunny.' A smack punctuated each word.

'Sweety...Honey...' Seamus protested in vain.

'BUUNNNYYY!!' The Gryffindor that should have been a Hufflepuff screamed. Gilderoy decided he was better off far, far away from this argument as he looked behind and saw a shower of sparks coming from the end of the girl's wand. He hurried off up the stairs in search of Potter.

Several minutes later Gilderoy came down the stairs, levitating an unconscious Potter in front of him. Retrieving the brat had been easier than he had expected. Once he had actually found the correct room. There had been a rather embarrassing incident when he had stumbled into a store cupboard containing feminine "supplies", but having found him it had been a simple matter of Stupifying the beautiful unconscious boy.

It had been rather _unfortunate_ of course, that he had managed to bump Potter into several painful corners of furniture before getting the hang of the Levitating charm; but as Potter had been unconscious he wouldn't have been able to feel a thing. The bruises that would mar the annoyingly flawless skin certainly made Gilderoy feel better. He poked his angelic head around the door leading to the Common Room. It was empty. The quarrelling couple had obviously taken their quarrelling elsewhere. 

He hurried past the Fat Lady's portrait and down the corridor, Harry Potter floating in front of him. Now all he had to do was find somewhere to hide Potter until the morning. He smiled maliciously. _Maybe the Owlery... _

--

Professor Snape trailed reluctantly behind the procession lead exuberantly by the youngest member of the Malfoy household. _It was peculiar_, he reflected, _how a little thing like being a Veela could make him suddenly hate his formerly beloved godson._ The Pureblood teen was at present expounding on his fantasies about Potter, loudly.

'Of course for the summer months we'll retire to my French chateau. It's in Nice. We have some of the finest examples of Pre-Goblin rebellion art there. I'm sure Harry will love _The Gorgian Knot of Snakes_; it hangs in the First Reception Room.' Lupin was looking sceptically at him. 'Well maybe not,' he admitted reluctantly, 'but there are some gorgeous Phoenix portraits. Harry will look so beautiful there, the light in the evening will compliment him perfectly.'

Snape imagined hexing Draco's mouth shut and then stamping on him. Hard. Oh, he could _hear_ the squelches!

'And of course Professor Lupin and Mr Black, you will have to come with us. We couldn't go all that time without seeing you. And Severus will need some company whilst Harry and I are otherwise _occupied_.' Draco actually had the nerve to grin suggestively at his godfather.

Snape trembled with the urge to hit him. He could rant for a week with just _how_ much was wrong with what Draco had just said.

But the blasted Veela was continuing.

'And I suppose, Weasley that you and Granger will want to come as well.' Ron grunted in a way that _could_ be taken as an affirmation. 'But you probably won't be interested once Harry and I start having children and there are screaming infants everywhere. I wonder how many Harry will want. I was thinking three or four, but Veela submissives are always compelled to have large families. I'll be happy just as long as they have Harry's eyes.' Snape would have been amused at the way Weasley went faintly green, if not for the fact that he was also holding back vomit.

What was more disturbing was the glint in Black's eyes.

Snape drew a sigh of relief as they finally arrived at Gryffindor Tower. Finally this inane chatter would be over, Draco would keep himself occupied with Potter and he'd be able to read the book he'd brought with him in peace. If only he could bring his portable potions kit, he thought longingly. But he didn't want to see what would happen if he exposed dangerous ingredients and experimental potions to Potter in front of his highly excitable, extremely vicious, future mate.

He was trailing so far behind the others that, as he was climbing the stairs up to Potter's room, he didn't know exactly what had happened. But he definitely heard Draco's animal-like shriek. He climbed the remaining stairs quickly, yet gracefully and stepped into the now nauseatingly familiar Gryffindor dormitory. Draco was pacing back and forth in agitation, animal almost completely taken control from rational wizard. The Gryffindor was nowhere in sight.

'So...Potter realised that he would be doing everyone a favour by staying away from here tonight?' Snape almost instantly regretted saying it when Draco turned to pace towards him, a growl rumbling beneath his chest.

He was almost ashamed of the gratitude he felt towards Weasley when he said, with that horribly thoughtless look on his face, 'But can't you just sense Harry out?' He broke off as he saw everyone look at him incredulously and said sulkily, 'Well it worked when Malfoy broke into our room the first time, you don't have to look at me like I'm Lockhart or something...'

'No...Ron...it's a good idea.' Snape was disgusted that the words coming out of the werewolf's mouth were actually warranted. 'It's just, we should have thought of that before.' They all turned to face Draco, who even now was staring into space with a kind of wild expression.

Weasley faced Black, 'So how exactly does this work? Does he read Harry's mind, or just sort of sniff him out?'

'I dunno. I think it's like Remus and chocolate, he just _knows_ where it is.'

'If you've quite finished with your inane nattering, the veela in question has left the room.' Snape was already following his godson to wherever the damned Potter had hidden himself.

--

Stuck in the Owlery in the middle of the night with only a stretch black body stocking for cover, was not the most enjoyable experience that Gilderoy had gone through. As he shuddered as another cold gust of wind froze all his unmentionable parts, he reflected that maybe a pashmina scarf may have been in order. He scowled down at the cause of all his woes, whose porcelain cheeks were becomingly rosy with the cold.

The hard stone floor covered with owl pellets wasn't pleasant either, but _Potter _of course was levitating several feet above the excrement. He was contemplating letting the levitation spell, and Potter, drop, when he heard a strange growling sound accompanied by faint scraping. He cautiously poked his head out of one of the openings through which the owls entered and left and looked down the tower which seemed to stretch for miles.

He whipped his head back in, heart rate increasing rapidly. His eyes darted from side to side. _By all that was sacred and purple, Draco Malfoy was climbing up the wall. And growling._ He stumbled up, and then stumbled towards Potter, then stumbled towards the least faeces coated wall that he could see. This was a situation which he would need all his charm to escape from.

Somehow in all his stumbling, he must have triggered one of the ancient mechanisms, built into the castle around a thousand years ago, for as he backed against the, relatively clean, wall, he found himself backing a little further than he had expected. He saw a tunnel that seemed to lead to an ancient elaborate silver slide. Seeing a chance to escape, Gilderoy summoned Potter's still sleeping form and pulled him through the entrance, seeing it close just before the enraged Veela made his entrance. He slid down the slide with Potter, hearing in relief stone being shredded by diamond-hard claws.

After a long dizzying ride that made Gilderoy want to throw up all over his body stocking, he found himself thrown up into the air, Potter in front of him. As he span through the air, he considered what this evening could have been like; perhaps a nice chardonnay in the bath. Instead he looked in horror as he saw Potter land on a sofa (and in Helga's name who knew where that came from) and realised that very, very soon he would be landing on top of the little bastard.

He landed with an uncomfortable thud and looked fuzzily down into a face that he vaguely recognised and vaguely realised he detested. The reality of the situation coming back to him, he pushed himself up with his hands and looked around; The Slytherin Common Room. Well that explained the Silver Slide. They always needed new ways to sneak about the castle and pounce on unsuspecting Hufflepuffs. He shuddered at the memories. He was about to get up, when he heard low voices muttering, and getting louder. Swearing to himself, but ever so elegantly, he ducked down again against Potter. The brat had to be wearing some kind of perfume; there was no way a man or boy would naturally smell that good.

'Oh Seamusssss.' A male voice half-hissed, half groaned. Gilderoy rolled his eyes. This Seamus boy _again_. It was a wonder that he wasn't spreading diseases all over the castle.

'That's right Blaise, ugh, just like that, oh!' Gilderoy attempted to press his hands against his ears, but realised this brought him even closer to Potter. The minutes ticked by. The noises got louder. He started counting his awards to distract himself.

Most Charming Smile.

Squeal!

Fingernails of the Year (1994) (1995)

Moan.

Madame Sleek-Easy's Shiny Hair Trophy.

'Harder, HARDER!'

Softest Skin Award. (Sponsored by your good friends at Glamourie Glamour)

Thudding, which Gilderoy really didn't want to think more closely about.

As Gilderoy ran towards the end of his mental list, he noticed the room had become quiet, save harsh panting, and the occasional wet kiss. This was the time to get out of this style forsaken hell-hole. He pushed himself up again, so he could get a look around the room, and figure the best way out. It was then that the entrance to the common room slammed open.

--

Once they had caught up to Draco, clawing at stone walls whilst Owls fluttered and screeched up in the rafters, Weasley was exhausted, Black was frustrated, the werewolf had that disturbing glint in his eyes and Severus Snape was extremely pissed off.

If it wasn't enough that Draco had to choose Potter to live the rest of his life with, if it wasn't enough that he had to witness that _atrocity _every night; now Potter had them running all over the castle.

'Calm down Draco,' he ground out. 'This behaviour is not fitting of a Malfoy.' The Veela hissed in displeasure and went back to scraping the wall.

'While I am quite sure you need a manicure,' Snape drawled looking at deadly claws, 'has it occurred to you to identify Potter's location instead of idly decorating the wall.'

The Veela Spun round to glare at his godfather. Snape raised his eyebrow. Then Draco did that strange staring into the air thing again.

'He's this way.' Draco said before hurrying out of the Tower.

Snape followed the hurrying Veela and Gryffindors resignedly, thinking longingly of his book.

As they approached the Slytherin Common room, Snape was surprised enough at their destination to be jogged out of his self pity. _How in the hell had a moron like Potter figured his way into the Slytherin Common Room?_

The magic in the castle seemed to sense the Veela's rage, because as they approached it, the blank section of wall that concealed the entrance rippled quickly and the door shot open. Draco stormed in, the Gryffindors entering quickly behind, Snape followed, tired by the whole experience.

The roar that preceded his entrance did not bode well.

Upon entering, Snape was vaguely surprised to see Gilderoy Lockhart getting up hurriedly from on top of an unconscious Potter, who lay on one of the sofas. A suspicious smell was in the air. Draco was flexing his claws.

'What's up?' A slurred voice asked from against a wall in the corner. The six (including Lockhart) turned to see a half naked Finnegan and Zabini.

Snape closed his eyes for patience, then abandoned the idea and shouted, 'Detention! And put your clothes on. NOW!'

Zabini blushed and hurriedly pulled his trousers on. Finnegan nonchalantly followed suit, looking on curiously as Draco headed towards a sofa. It was then that he noticed Potter.

'What? Harry's here? What's Harry doing here?' Snape lamented the observational skills of the next generation.

Then Finnegan noticed Lockhart, 'Professor Lockhart?' He looked the professor up and down. 'What are you wearing?' Looking at the entirely too revealing costume Snape decided it was a good question. _Perhaps selective sterilization was not the answer?_

'Don't you belong in Gryffindor?' Lupin asked ironically.

'Right...well...I'll just be going.'

'Do that.' Snape bit out.

As the promiscuous Gryffindor exited the tension filled room he called back, 'Ron, let me know how Harry's doing in the morning. 'K mate? See you later Blaise.'

Zabini half-heartedly called something back. He then looked around nervously before slipping out of the common room saying, 'I'll just be going.'

By this time Draco had lifted Potter into his arms, removing the Stupefying spell, leaving the boy sleeping naturally.

'Where can I take him? We don't have much time.'

'Aren't your rooms near here Severus?' The werewolf asked.

Snape shuddered; he could already picture what was going to happen. Draco had headed out of the room, and there was no way he could see of stopping the creature. He would just have to endure it.

'We'll deal with you tomorrow,' he spat at Lockhart before going after his godson, leaving the professor standing there looking rather silly and absolutely petrified, in a black body stocking.

--

Severus Snape stood stoic as Draco got down to business with Potter in his personal rooms, surrounded by his personal possessions. Unfortunately for Severus Snape, his possessions consisted of a rather large quantity of stuffed toys. Instead of looking nauseous, as per usual, Weasley was looking in disbelief at the wall dedicated to bunny rabbits.

Lupin was unsuccessfully trying to hold back laughter.

Black wasn't even trying. Snape could imagine the blackmail that would occur after tonight.

He skulked in a corner. This was almost the worse night of his life.

The delay in finding Potter meant that it was far, far later than it should have been. Potter was stirring to consciousness just as Draco was finishing with him.

The Veela pranced out of the room, followed still by the Gryffindors.

Snape unfortunately was preoccupied with his misery, so didn't notice the others leaving.

He looked towards Potter in confusion just in time to see the boy's eyes fluttering open. Potter looked in confusion at Snape, then at the bunny rabbits, bears, unicorns and snakes; then he looked down at his naked body.

Then he screamed.

Snape sighed. He was going to have a hell of a job trying to explain this.


	8. Potion Master Paranoia

**A/N: If anyone still remembers this story, I am sorry again for how late this is. A combination of laziness, final exams, being ill and friends is basically my excuse. Anyhow you might want to read the earlier chapters to remind you of what happened. I had to. **

**The Veela Conspiracy**

**Chapter Eight: Potion Master Paranoia**

'Are you utterly insane?!' Minerva McGonagall's habitually composed voice screeched out through the Headmaster's office. Impressively the headmaster in question only flinched slightly whilst regarding Gilderoy Lockhart with a placidly unyielding gaze.

That blue-eyed watery gaze frightened Gilderoy Lockhart far more than McGonagall's screeching ever could, no matter how high pitched it got. Dumbledore blinked once. Gilderoy shuddered.

'Albus, if the parents ever got to hear of this...'

'There, there Minerva, I'm sure it'll all turn out well.'

'TURN OUT WELL? A teacher kidnaps a student from his bed in the middle of the night and you think thing will turn out well. I'm telling you Albus, the parents won't stand for it.' Minerva was almost faint from disbelief.

'The parents didn't seem to think much of trolls, basilisks or escaped convicts,' said Sirius ironically, sprawled inelegantly on a velvety red sofa.

'Or Voldemort,' added Remus, in Minerva's opinion quite unnecessarily, from his position snuggled against Sirius' side.

'Now Minerva, there no need to get all in a flutter about this,' said the headmaster leaning back slightly in the large chair which should have diminished him. 'We can sort things out very nicely by ourselves. No need to bother people's parents and worry them about anything.'

Minerva scowled. This was exactly what he'd said after the petrification incidents a few years ago. She'd barely had the courage to smile thinly at Mr and Mrs Granger as they accompanied their daughter on a shopping trip to Diagon Alley the following summer.

'Very well,' she bit out, 'but you _will_ deal with this Albus, and Professor Lockhart _will_ be dealt with appropriately.'

'I'm sure we can all come to some agreement,' said the headmaster with a beneficent smile plastered on his face. Minerva wanted to scrub it off with acidic soap as she came to the conclusion that Lockhart was _not_ going to be handed over to the proper authorities which in her opinion were the friendly team at the Fringdolf-Niemtz Psychiatric Ward of St Mungo's.

The door swung open with an impressive crash and they all looked round to see Professor Snape standing there, hands clenched and a nerve twitching just below his eye.

'I _hope_,' he said jaw clenched painfully tight as he strode into the room, 'that you haven't decided what to do with this _ridiculous_ excuse for a teacher. After having to explain to Potter exactly what he was doing _nude_ in my _private _apartments in the early hours the morning, I _sincerely_ expect to have some say in the _painful_ punishment of this _criminally_ idiotic waste of human flesh.' He attempted to slam the door closed at this point but it made little more than a dull thud. Professor Snape glared at Dumbledore.

With every effort to appear serious Remus asked, 'What did you tell Harry, Severus?'

'I told the boy that he had been sleepwalking, and had found his way into my apartments. And I, out of some unfortunate impulse of _generosity_ allowed him to stay there.' Sirius snorted. 'And yes Black, Potter did not seem to believe it anymore than you do.' He whipped round to glare at Lockhart who was trying to make himself as small as possible in his chair. 'Now I have the_ good fortune_ to have a magically unstable Gryffindor convinced I am trying to molest him.' Lockhart shivered perceptibly.

'You know,' said Sirius in a tone of dawning realization as he stood up, 'why exactly was Lockhart kidnapping Harry? I mean I know he said he was trying to stop the bonding and transformation process...'

'Why he was trying to do that I shudder to imagine,' interjected Professor McGonagall with an impressive Scottish roll on the 'shudder'.

'...trying to stop the bonding and transformation process,' repeated Sirius giving Professor McGonagall a disapproving frown as he expounded on his theory. '_BUT_ why didn't he just touch Harry! A simple touching of hands would have created havoc. I mean we all knew that we couldn't touch Harry because it would interfere with the new magic running through his system.' He started pacing in the way that Remus had come to recognise meant _I have come up with a very clever answer and am going to milk it for all it's worth. I am sooooooooo clever. _Remus rolled his eyes.

'No, Professor Lockhart had another agenda! Why would a grown man sneak into a boy's dormitory at night?' He asked conveniently forgetting he'd been doing exactly that for the past few nights. 'Why would such a man kidnap one of the boys and take him to a place frequented by animals and then to the slimy Slytherin _dungeons_? Why would such a man wear that?' He flung his arm out in accusation to the black body stocking hanging limply off the edge of a shelf. (It should be noted that Lockhart had been forced to change into less revealing clothing for the sake of everyone's stomachs). 'For one reason only my friends,' he folded his arms in satisfaction, 'because this man is a pervert.'

'I'm surprised Black,' drawled Professor Snape, 'that you seem so happy about the possibility that Lockhart kidnapped your godson from his bed for such...' He waggled his eyebrows mockingly. '..._personal_ reasons.'

'_You slimy creep..._' Sirius was advancing on Snape when Remus pulled him back.

'Actually Sirius, Professor Snape may have a point,' Remus suggested. He turned in Gilderoy Lockhart's direction, one eyebrow raised. 'Perhaps Mr Lockhart would like to given an explanation,' he said coldly.

'No, no, no,' Lockhart protested in a thin high voice, 'you can't say that I wanted to do that, I'm not like that. The boy was naked alone with Snape not me. The Potter boy is just a complete nuisance. Always sticking his nose into everyone's business, and everyone always loving him and now he's getting _pretty!_ It's too much for a reasonable person to stan...' He trailed off as he registered the glares he was receiving. 'Well I wasn't doing _that_.'

'Then why, in Merlin's name, did you have to drag us all around the castle?' expostulated Severus Snape. 'We were all here when Professor Dumbledore gave us that _long..._'

'...long, long, long, long, long...' interjected Sirius.

'...lecture about the details of Potter's transformation.' Professor Snape cut Sirius off abruptly. 'Why didn't you just touch Potter's hand, or that repulsively untidy hair, or smashed his turned-up nose with your fist?' He finished almost lovingly.

Gilderoy said something under his breath that they all missed.

'Why don't you repeat that, Professor Lockhart?' suggested the headmaster in a friendly helpful voice. At that moment Gilderoy Lockhart would have been quite happy to hit him. HARD.

'I fell asleep for that part of the lecture,' he mumbled sulkily.

Remus spluttered into laughter. Professor Snape gaped in disbelief and Sirius, outraged, roared, 'Are you telling me we went through all that because the thrice-damned teacher couldn't stay awake during a staff meeting?'

'It would seem so, my boy. It would seem so. One should never sleep during a staff meeting. Indeed once I remember, it was 1969 I believe, there was a most interesting meeting on the mating habits of magical frogs and the uses of frogspawn. Most enlightening!' It was safe to say that before Dumbledore got half way through his speech his companions in the room had tuned out, entirely too used to his platitudes.

'Perhaps it is time to get down to the question of disciplinary action headmaster?' asked Minerva with a kind of exhausted patience.

'Yes indeed. If everyone would like to leave, Gilderoy and I will be able to discuss this in private.' Minerva sighed in resignation, all too used to being treated in this fashion, Remus dragged Sirius out and Severus Snape stood staring implacably at the kind old wizards face before he too was utterly undone by the watery blue eyes. He skulked out, taking care to slink in his very best fashion. Slightly ahead of him he could hear Black complaining.

'Is anyone else utterly sick of meetings in the Headmaster's study?'

Privately Snape agreed with him. Not that he would ever admit it.

'Silence your irritating yapping Black,' he said viciously, before skulking past them to his nice cool relaxing dungeons. He needed to read a good murder mystery novel.

Behind them Gilderoy Lockhart was trembling in a corner of his chair as Albus Dumbledore turned round to smile at him kindly.

--

The fire was lit in the Gryffindor common room where groups of rosy cheeked students played exploding snap and munched on Ever-sticky Toffee. Ron looked longingly at a particularly joyful group as Hermione dragged him towards a small figure shaking behind a large red comfy chair. The figure was hidden in the shadows so all Ron could see was that occasional glimpse of a pale face that looked much, much too pale.

'You alright Harry,' He said with forced cheeriness. There was no response. 'So me and Seamus and Dean were thinking of snatching the Slytherin's clothes after their Quidditch practice. Fancy humiliating some snaky ponces?' Harry whimpered and Hermione elbowed Ron rather sharply in his solar plexus.

'Perhaps this is not the best time to be talking about nakedness and Slytherins,' she hissed out into his ear through a forced smile at Harry.

As Ron gasped for breath he reflected that nobody seemed to appreciate his efforts. When he had recovered he mumbled, 'Only trying to help.' Hermione, who by this point was kneeling down in an attempt to comfort Harry, did not even dignify him with a glance. Instead her back straightened in a way that Ron had come to recognise meant that he would be suffering tonight. He licked his lips in anticipation, tuning out Harry's hesitant babble as visions of whips and chains danced through his head.

'...and there were unicorns everywhere Hermione, and S...Snape just stood there _looking at me_ and he had this really, really weird look in his eyes and he was really, really close and I don't know why I would have been sleep walking naked because I always wear the snugly pyjamas Mrs Weasley got me and anyway I think I saw my pyjama's all ripped up and there was a bit of my pyjama bottoms on the fluffy kittens head and I think I should tell Professor Dumbledore about it because what if he does it again...' He broke off abruptly as Hermione smacked him sharply with a gloved hand.

'Calm down Harry,' she said in a way that Harry thought was entirely too friendly for someone that had just smacked him. 'Now go and see Professor Dumbledore if you really want to but I am sure Professor Dumbledore would not have hired Professor Snape if he thought he was going to attack the pupils.'

Ron wondered where Hermione had been for the past few years while Harry just stared dumbly at her before getting up from his hidey hole and running to Seamus shouting, 'Seamus, Seamus, Hermione hit me.' Seamus scrambled to his feet, outraged and glared glacially at Hermione. He checked he was covered up enough and held out his arms sighing in satisfaction as Harry ran in to them sobbing. '...and Snape kidnapped me last night and took all my clothes and he was just standing looking at my naked body when I woke up and there was the same sort of smell as there is when we take showers together, whatever it is.'

'What!!' The same expletive rang out from multiple areas of the Gryffindor common room.

'Would you like to explain exactly what you have been doing taking showers with Harry, Seamus?' Hermione hissed threateningly.

Seamus shrugged it off, 'We were in different stalls and it's not like our innocent little Harry knew what I was doing.' He licked his lips. 'But the view was..._divine_.' Coming back to himself he continued in a much more aggravated fashion. 'But I think we should all be a lot more concerned about what Snape was doing, hmm?' Harry nodded at that statement, shoulders heaving with sobs.

'Someone needs to show Snape that he shouldn't mess with Gryffindors, 'specially our pretty little Gryffindor. Who's with me?' Seamus shouted out. Cries rang out across the common room, including from Ron who quickly stopped when he saw the expression Hermione was giving him.

Deciding that there had been quite enough rabble rousing for one day Hermione intervened guiding Harry out of the room with a hand on his back as she spoke, 'Why doesn't Harry just go to the Headmaster's study and explain everything to Professor Dumbledore?'

There were grumbles of discontent as the pair left the room, Ron scrambling after them.

Looking regretfully and slightly lustfully at Harry's retreating form, Seamus turned round with a sly smile to face the angry Gryffindors.

'I think it's time we did some plotting...'

--

Harry was moping in the library. He had done as Hermione had suggested. He had visited the Headmaster. He had explained that Snape was dangerous and had unnatural desires towards him. He had suggested a pit of crocodiles. And what had the Headmaster done? Nothing. He had not even promised to tell Snape off. And as Hermione had abandoned him at the Headmaster's study, he had had to creep round every corner, making sure that Snape was definitely nowhere in sight.

At one point he could have sworn McGonagall was looking at him with a confused expression as he crawled on his belly past her. But it wasn't his fault that Snape bastard and his beloved head of house were about the same sort of height. And McGonagall really needed to put on a bit of weight. If she was as thin as Snape, something was definitely wrong. Maybe she was anorexic. His pretty black hair fell across his eyes as he contemplated the benefits of sending his head of house a pamphlet on proper nutrition before bringing himself back to the more important matter at hand.

How to deal with a perverted Potions Master?

He was just wondering what Snape's worst fear was when shadow passed across his field of vision and a form settled in the chair next to him. Assuming it was Seamus he snuggled up to the form and went back to his thoughts. Strangely Seamus' body felt a lot more...solid and...muscled than it usually did. He was also a little surprised by the arm that twisted around his waist, pulling him onto the lap next to him. Seamus usually went for his hips.

However he didn't get really concerned until a large hand cupped his face and elegant fingers started to stroke his cheek, a large thumb rubbing the back of his neck. What if Seamus caught his gay disease?

He turned to confront Seamus about this worrying possibility but before he could say anything his eyes were caught by a silvery-grey gaze. 'You're not Seamus,' he said stupidly.

'No,' murmured Malfoy in a deep voice, his large body shifting around Harry, 'I'm not Finnegan. Which is good, because if I was Finnegan I wouldn't be able to do this,' he bent down to kiss Harry's pretty nose, 'or this,' he continued as he bent down to kiss a now rosy cheek. 'Now tell me what was upsetting you my little one,' he continued as he discretely caressed a small patch of delicate skin on Harry's side, revealed by Harry's untidy shirt.

Dismissing the squirmy feeling in his stomach as being caused by the gay disease, Harry proceeded to pour his troubles into Draco's very willing ear. Something inside told him that Draco would be able to take very good care of him, a little whispering voice that was slightly louder today than it had been yesterday. He watched the expression on Draco's face turn to a scheming one as he explained how Snape had abducted him.

'Indeed, my precious,' Draco finally said after a long moment of silence, 'You must do something to stop Professor Snape. Of course I must assist you. I cannot allow the Professor to disgrace the noble house of Slytherin like this.'

Harry nodded vigorously in agreement.

'We'll have to meet again, and I'll have to arrange suitable protection for you.'

Harry couldn't agree more. He was suddenly very glad that it had been Malfoy instead of Seamus that sat next to him.

'Don't worry, Harry, I'll be here for you.'

Malfoy put his mouth close to Harry's ear.

'We will be together.'


	9. Woe is the Potions Master

**A/N: Ok the only thing I can say is THANK YOU to anyone who has kept with this story this freaking long because I seriously wouldn't blame you if you hadn't, with how lazy I've been. This is an extra long chapter because I actually wrote two versions of this chapter which were then combined together. Hope it's not too obvious and that everyone likes it.**

**The Veela Conspiracy**

**Chapter Nine: Woe is the Potions Master**

Down, far down in the depths of the Slytherin dungeons Severus Snape was lightly sipping at a peach Daiquiri in a chair by the fire, when an ominous feeling crept over him. It was the same ominous feeling that crept over him the year Potter had started his first year at Hogwarts. It was the same ominous feeling that came over him when Potter got involved in that ridiculous Tri-Wizard Challenge. It was an ominous feeling that meant trouble was coming to him, and it was trouble in a small Gryffindor form topped with messy black hair.

He swept his fingers over his eyebrows to make sure that all the hairs were in line. In situations of imminent doom, he liked to know his hair was in place. It gave him a sense of control in a Potter-fied universe. Before Potter had entered Hogwarts he had tended to have fly-away wispy hair. Within a week of Potter receiving his acceptance letter, his hair had been placed under the rigid control of grease, grease and more grease. Snape attributed it to the subconscious influence of his mind upon his body.

Abruptly a ringing began in his ears which foretold the arrival of the one magical being that could make him angrier than Potter did. His fingers exerted that little bit too much pressure and the stem of his glass snapped just as Albus Dumbledore's voice spoke benevolently in his head.

'My dear boy, if you would like to join us all in my study, I believe we have to deal with some issues concerning Mr Potter.' The voice cut off. Severus Snape stood up, vastly irritated, moving towards his bedchamber to change into something that was not splattered with Daiquiri. The ringing began again. Dumbledore's dulcet tones struck again. 'And if you would be so kind, Severus, to make your way directly here. It's just I have a meeting with the Minister at six.' Snape shut his eyes slowly, trying to hold on to some form of patience. He walked stiffly, and wetly, to the door. The ringing began again. 'Oh, and if it is complete, will you bring Fawkes' tonic. He is awfully irritable this afternoon. So kind of you.' The end of the message was signalled with a high pitched ping.

It was official.

Severus Snape had a headache.

--------------------------------------

Tonic in hand, Snape skulked down the twisty turny corridors of Hogwarts. The fact that he was taking about five times as long as the journey could be completed in, was in no way related to his dread of the meeting which was about to occur. The awful blue twinkle was not the reason he was going up stairs he did not need to and retracing his steps through secret corridors. Snape was used to being manipulated and abused in all kinds of ways. No Severus Snape was using the extra complicated route for one reason.

He was being followed.

There was nothing so plebeian as the echoing footsteps or hushed whispers. Only the raised hairs at the back of his neck and about twenty years of service to a dark lord told him, he was being followed by those with evil intentions. He looked suspiciously at a mirror as he thought he saw a movement in the reflection as he passed. But there was nothing.

The un-named instinct which had saved his life on more than one occasion made him dodge to the left suddenly just in time to miss a putrid yellow coloured spell by half an inch. It was a probably a fairly harmless, humiliating spell such as Flectus Podia or Ex Osculum, but the fact that he had seen several spells of that colour rip a man's intestines out through his anus or interfere with the digestive tract in equally disgusting ways, in no way comforted him.

He spun around with the speed which had caught dozens of fornicating students in the past and found...nothing. He bore his teeth in a grimace of anger and stalked onwards, subtly leaving a trail of wordless spells which would attach a person's feet to the floor leaving him or her unable to spell themselves free. The Potions Master smiled a little smugly when he heard a startled gasp, followed by muted cursing but continued on his way. Best to leave the poor little fool to suffer for an hour or so; time to ponder the professor's revenge.

No doubt it was Potter or one of his cronies, taking some misguided form of revenge. As he passed a group of Fourth Year Gryffindors who did even less than usual to hide their looks of disgust as he passed, he realised with a sense of doom that the 'story' of what had happened to Potter seemed to have spread beyond the boy's closest group of friends. And knowing the school's unwarranted worship of the foolish child, the trapped, doomed little cretin could be just about anyone. He raised his personal wards and increased their strength a notch with every student he saw.

By the time he entered the Headmaster's study they were positively thrumming and Albus raised both eyebrows in surprise as he said.

'My dear Severus, I assure you, you have nothing to fear from me.'

His only response was a scowl as he handed Fawkes' tonic over to his aged mentor. He did however lower the wards fractionally as he crossed the cosy room.

'I presume that you have fired the air-headed Lockhart,' Snape said scathingly, breaking the silence abruptly.

'He has been asked to leave. But I have given him a week to get his affairs into order.' Snape snorted disbelievingly at that. What would it take to actually get fired from Hogwarts? Torture and Rape? Somehow he thought that renowned headmaster would excuse even that with a shrug and some pat excuse about the poor rapist's childhood.

'However the little affair has had some _ramifications._ Professor Lockhart's unfortunate spell casting has somewhat disrupted the transformation process. Mr Malfoy will have to make an extra night visit to Harry.'

Severus Snape allowed the slightest expression of horror cross his face before carefully arranging his features back into a sneer.

'I have already informed Mr Black and Mr Lupin who I have no doubt will inform Mr Weasley.'

Severus raised an eyebrow. 'I suppose we must all be glad it was not an extra week,' he said sarcastically. Dumbledore smiled in agreement, apparently missing the ironic undertone, though Snape had no doubt that he had picked up on it and was utilising his favourite coping method which was to ignore everything which did not agree with him.

'That is not however the main reason I called you here today. Apart from dear Fawkes' remedy, I have some concerns about the way you interact with the students.' Severus rolled his eyes and wandered over to a complicated 12th Century Wizarding puzzle which stood like a monolith in one corner.

He stared at it with heavy brows as Dumbledore started to talk about some nonsense such as conciliating with Potter and working together and strength in the face of adversity. The puzzle seemed to require a complicated set of unlocking spells applied in precisely the right place in precisely the correct order, combined with a random key word which was hidden in the decorative inlaid design on the structure. He set his formidable brain to work at the problem.

He only started to pay attention again when the headmaster started to talk about making himself more _sympathetic_ to the students. SYMPATHETIC! Time was when a student would be lucky to get away with only a good walloping with an enchanted shoe. Now he was expected to be friends with the little miscreants who couldn't even be bothered to do the required reading before class.

'I'm sure all it would take is a small smile once in a while my dear boy. After all, the students know you fought on the same side as them during that nasty affair with Tom Riddle.' Good Merlin the Headmaster made it sound like a Quidditch scuffle. 'They just need to be reassured you're not going to attack them at the smallest provocation.' Severus clenched his teeth as he considered how much provocation he had been under recently. He could have sworn one of the Gryffindors in the corridor has actually hissed at him.

'Well maybe a little bit of practice is needed with your smile,' conceded the headmaster looking uncharacteristically solemn. He soon brightened up as he continued, 'But for now...' Severus's eyes widened as the headmaster's wand jumped to his hand and he followed its progress in a complicated series of loops all of which were entirely unnecessary and purely because the headmaster like making colourful swirls (Albus Dumbledore was fully capable of performing all manner of spells wandlessly).

Suddenly the Potion Master felt the corners of his mouth drawn unstoppably, inevitably upwards, displaying his teeth in what could only be called a horrible mockery of a smile. His eyes watered a little as he struggled to pull his mouth into something resembling a normal expression but only succeeded in looking desperate and crazed.

In his shock he was powerless to stop the old man from nudging him out of the study with the words, 'Let me know how everyone reacts to the new you, won't you my boy?' He shook his head in disbelief as the door swung shut behind him.

Stumbling down a back corridor, teeth bared in what looked like a smile but what was actually rage, desperate for revenge, Snape swerved towards his trapped prey. Somewhere, hidden beneath an invisibility charm, lay the perfect victim on which to vent his frustration. With any luck it was Potter himself.

His hands trembled with barely held back energy as he crossed paths with Nearly-Headless Nick who drifted past casually. _Gryffindors._

He made no attempt to hide his encroaching wrath as he grew closer. Let the idiot wet himself with terror, but he would have his appetite for blood sated.

Finally reaching his designated destination, the Potions Master flashed a revealing spell across the width of the corridor.

Nothing! It passed down the corridor out of sight. His prey had escaped.

Dammit.

The students were working together.

-------------------------------------

From the second parallel corridor on the third floor to the Great Hall, Severus Snape was attacked by no fewer than three tripping jinxes, one large lemon meringue pie and a small Pit Bull dog named Boris. Snape had vague suspicions that the canine was a product of his tortured imagination; but all things considered, who could seriously blame him.

And all the while his teeth were bared in a way which Snape tried to convince himself was like a man at war. He flung the doors to the great hall open with a resounding crash and paused, his shoulders hunched and his head swooping from one side of the hall to the other like a bird of prey with a purely joyful grin on his face. Some second year Hufflepuffs wet themselves, the firsties simply fainted.

Somewhere to the back of the Slytherin table, flanked by a strange combination of heavily muffled Slytherins and Gryffindors, sat Harry Potter, who unconsciously shrank into the big blond figure at his side. Snape's eyes gleamed slightly as he saw his prey whimper almost imperceptibly. However it was not imperceptible to the Veela who sat up a little straighter and saw an opportunity to assert himself as the protector of his submissive. He gripped his wand firmly and Snape only had the sight of a determined chin rising and a flash of chartreuse light to warn him of the encroaching attack. It hit him like a clod of wet sand and Snape took a few seconds to register what had happened. No pain, good so far. Also clothes still present, so no instant humiliation which Snape was half surprised by. But then again that had never been the Malfoy style. Potter on the other hand.....

Finally Snape registered a faint tickling at his neck and a slight itching sensation all over his body. Something drifted past his eyes and he snatched at it, but before he had a chance to look at what he held, more of the substance drifted down and Snape did not have to look at his hand to realise what had happened. His HAIR! Dear Merlin HIS HAIR. The small feathery showers out of his sleeves and robes demonstrated this was not a solely a cranial issue, and all of a sudden he felt the brush of his fine silk under –robes a lot more closely.

At this stage a scowl of truly tremendous proportions would have appeared on Snape's face, if not for the Headmasters aforementioned spell. However his body shook with rage. Some nearby observers later said they also saw a twitch in the corners of his eyes, but otherwise the headmaster's magic held strong. There was silence in the Great Hall. Then from the Gryffindor table, a small snub-nosed boy snickered.

Where before stood a hawk or falcon now stood a well plucked chicken. Where there was one, others soon followed until the room was filled with half choked back laughter as the professor attempted once, and then twice, to reverse the veela's spell before remembering that veela magic was highly resistant to wizarding magic. It would take a potion specially brewed for a number of days or a particularly powerful wizard to undo this magic. Severus quickly ruled out the powerful wizards in the vicinity as either insane or deeply suspicious of him, and so took a deep breath and strode forwards to the staff table.

Why he kept on walking through the laughter, he didn't know. He did know, however, that he could not back down in the face of such insubordination. He had run away from the Marauders once in his first year, and for the seven years that followed they had not stopped chasing him. He settled down in his chair with all the dignity he could muster in such a situation, though his robes felt more like a shroud than the weapon that he was used to. When he nervously checked his personal wards, he discovered to his horror, that Dumbledore's spell had somehow opened a chink in his defences, and not being quite at the old wizards power level, Severus couldn't seal the breach.

'Severus,' Minerva murmured to him through the corner of her mouth, 'Everyone would understand if you retired to your quarters...or to the infirmary.' She looked at him a little more closely and sniffed. 'And is that...peach pulp on your robes.' He closed his eyes in agony, he had forgotten about the Daiquiri. Severus was unable to give the usual withering gaze which was his usual response to such remarks, and _really_ when had they ever been on first name terms. Instead he turned to her and spoke through his smile.

'_Minerva_, I suggest you use your much flaunted _wisdom_ to properly exercise your duties as Deputy Headmistress to control and discipline the students, and refrain from offering me ill-timed and ill-thought advice.' Minerva harrumphed and turned back to her sausages and mash, not even glancing his way for the rest of the night.

It would have been quite enough if Snape had simply had to sit through the immature snickering of a hall full of hormone doused adolescents whilst bald and grinning but, emboldened by the seeming defencelessness of their most hated professor (who it was rumoured had molested Harry Potter-the-saviour-of-the-wizarding-world) the student began to throw random hexes at unexpected intervals towards Severus Snape.

To be fair most of the ineptly cast spells were either....well inept, or fell widely short of the very small chink in his defences. However Severus did not appreciate the constant hiccupping or marked increase in his body odour which somehow managed to wriggle through. After enduring such humiliations for a full half an hour, Snape rose (imperiously) and walked rather hurriedly to a side door. Malfoy would pay in the only way which had ever been effective. Snape would tell Lucius Malfoy and let him deal with his satanic spawn.

His only consolation was that the Dog and the Wolf had not witnessed his humiliation. No doubt they were canoodling in an abandoned corridor. Never had Severus Snape thought he would endorse exhibitionist sex. Still, he wasn't safe yet. It was a full two floors to his quarters and the duo could jump out from anywhere. Saturdays were really not what they used to be.

Monday arrived bright and clear. Despite the fact that it was a school-day, the students chatted cheerfully and Hagrid was delighting in a new pair of Nattering Norwegian Newts and showing them off to Harry and Company.

'Yer see 'Arry, they likes to chatter and natter all through the day, and all through the night and all through the space in between. Don't think I've seen any so pretty.'

Harry and Company nodded their agreement while looking in vague horror at the newts, which were vomit green and let out surprisingly loud howling shrieks every few seconds.

'They like having their backs stroked. 'Ermione take Eglantine and I'll keep Egbert'

Something wet and slimy was placed in Hermione's hand. As she hesitantly stroked the creature's back with the tip of one nail under Hagrid's watchful and stern eye she tried not to think what the squishy stuff was that the newt had just deposited on her palm.

'Yes...well....hadn't we better be getting to breakfast.' Hermione suggested.

'I 'ad mine early. Isn't it a bit late for you to be getting to breakfast?' Hagrid asked.

'Oh but we're still growing...probably, need to have our breakfasts. Helps us learn. And Harry didn't you arrange to meet up with Draco at breakfast' said Hermione rather desperately. Harry brightened perceptibly.

'Well don't want to stop you from learning; I'll just take Eglantine from you then.' Hermione shuddered with relief as the abominable creature was removed. She scuttled off before Hagrid could say another word. Harry smiled apologetically and rather angelically at Hagrid.

'You know Hermione; she always wants to be the first to class.'

'She forgot her bag.' Hagrid pointed out. 'With all her books. You need books to learn. Why it was in my third year magical creature's book that I first learned all about these beautiful newts. You know during mating season, Eglantine here sprays a scent which can be picked up by male newts from up to ten mile away. Very rare these females are. Eglantine's a precious girl, which reminds me....'

'We we really have to be going Hagrid, see you soon.' Harry hastily interrupted and hurried off, followed shortly by Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville. Unseen in dark corridors behind them Hufflepuffs scuttled after Harry who was making his way to the Great Hall as fast as possible.

The boys soon caught up to Hermione who was frantically wiping the gloopy substance from her hand with a tissue.

'Never mind Hermione,' sympathised Dean, 'Could be worse.'

'How could it be worse?' Dean couldn't think of anything at right that second but he was sure there was something.

'The North American Strangleweed moss asphyxiates its victims,' interjected Neville, 'before emitting a chemical which liquidates the internal organs. Be thankful Hagrid doesn't like plants.'

'I say, really?' Said Hermione, intellectual curiosity roused, before coming to her senses. 'You're not helping Neville. And this isn't coming off. Who's idea was it that we meet with Hagrid this morning?' Harry, who had been gazing in the direction of the great wooden doors of the Great Hall, went to hide behind Seamus.

'Well I think it was a very fortunate meeting,' said Seamus. The others gave him weird looks as he gazed dreamily off into the distance for once not noticing how close Harry was to him. Seamus was not generally a dreamy person.

'At least it's a nice day,' piped Harry musically. Hermione scrubbed more frantically at the substance on her palm.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Severus Snape was not aware that it was a nice day. He was hiding under his bedcovers, in his bedroom which had no windows and the door firmly locked. His hair was in the first itchy stage of re-growth. He was considering the relative value of staying in bed versus getting out of it.

After the disaster of Saturday, the professor had spent the rest of the weekend constantly looking over his shoulder for trouble. He had been almost left in peace after the day of horrors, no more hexes or hissing. But they...looked at him; looked at him with those horrid unblinking eyes and blank expressions. And horror beyond horrors he had even resorted to the staff room to escape them, only to encounter an over amorous Poppy Pomfrey. He shuddered at the thought. Women in the medical profession knew entirely too much about anatomy for comfort.

To add insult to injury Malfoy Senior, it appeared, had done practically nothing to chastise his offspring, who went along looking more satisfied with each day that passed. After a particularly loud Floo conversation, Lucius had all but promised the demise of Draco Malfoy as long as Severus continued with the visits to Potter's room each night. But as far as Severus could see the only effect was Draco studiously avoiding looking or talking directly to him for the past few days.

Worst of all, this thing with Potter was not even going to be over tonight but would drag on for one extra day. He did not know how much more he could handle of Potter-flesh. Even though all the text-books indicated that Potter was being turned into some physical ideal, Snape did not see that he looked any less Potter-like. His hair was as black and scruffy, he was still small in a way that made you want to squish him, and his eyes peered out from behind overly-large glasses as annoyingly as ever.

He rolled over, trying to ignore the fact that he was getting more uncomfortable by the second. He was only delaying the inevitable. If he tried to hide beneath the covers for too long, no doubt Albus would send the house elf choir to fetch him. He shuddered. He knew a Ravenclaw boy who had tried to cut his ears off to avoid the crooning of the house elf choir. Granted, the boy had had some emotional problems, but the anecdote was still apt. Gathering all his courage he stuck a toe into the cold air. He retracted it sharply, shivering. He wrestled with his thoughts for a few moments before flinging back the covers.

Sometimes, he thought bitterly, being a teacher just wasn't worth the long holidays

It was a thought that reoccurred to him as he arrived late to breakfast only to sit on something squidgy and wet and quite definitely at least half alive, as it squirmed beneath him in a way that made his stomach squirm in reply. For a few seconds he contemplated just sitting there and killing it, and by the feel of it, it was quite definitely something that deserved to be dead.


End file.
